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babyleostuff · 10 months

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MY BIG SMALL GREEK WEDDING

・❥・ for the 2k followers event

summary: a greek island + your husband Joshua = the best honeymoon ever

pairing: idol!joshua x fem!reader

genre: fluff | word count: 2k

warnings: taking a bath together (in a non sexual way)

“Josh, honey, you’ve packed everything,” you crossed your arms over your chest, looking at your husband. “And if you keep adding stuff we’ll have to pay for the excess baggage.”

“I just want to make sure we have everything,” he said, rummaging through your suitcase. “Have you packed the swimsuit I got you for our anniversary? You said you wanted to take it with you.”

Usually it was you who panicked before flights, running around the house checking if you had turned off all the electricity, if Joshua’s favourite snacks were in his bag, and if your documents hadn’t magically expired. But this time it was Joshua who for some reason had turned into a panicked mum, his usual calmness nowhere to be seen.

“You’ve asked me that at least three times now,” you smiled, shaking your head. “Yes, I have.”

Walking up to him, you put your head on his back, running your thumbs over his waist. He looked cute with his eyes wide, and a slightly panicked face, but you didn’t want him to stress over a swimsuit, especially not before your honeymoon. “We don’t have time for this, darling. We have to leave in ten minutes,” he said, straightening his back to look around the room for the hundredth time.

“Joshua Hong, what has gotten into you?” You asked, smacking his shoulder. “I just want everything to be perfect, Mrs Hong,” he said and pecked your cheek. “Now go and get dressed. We really have to leave.”

Biting your lip, you nodded and quickly moved towards the hall, so Joshua wouldn't see your smile. You had been married for two months now, but you still couldn't stop giggling like a little girl when your husband called you that, especially since he did it with such ease, as if he had waited his whole life to do it.

And you were convinced that you’d never get used to it.

[...]

“Come on! Hurry up grandpa,” you yelled at Joshua, who was huffing and puffing behind you. The trail you chose wasn’t the easiest, but the website said it had the best views, and the photos taken there supposedly looked like from a fairy tale. “Aren’t you a pro idol?” You asked when he finally caught up to you with a red face and a sweaty forehead.

“I-I am,” he gasped, bending over and resting his hands on his knees. “But they did not train me in climbing,” you giggled, smoothing out his hair that was messed up because of the wind. After a few days spent in the sun, lighter streaks began to appear in them, intertwining with his natural hair colour. “This is a hiking trail for families with children, I don’t think you can call this climbing, honey.”

As if he realised how dramatic he was, Joshua laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “You should take a picture of me and send it to Coups,” he said and grabbed your hand, pulling you to continue walking along the path. “He’d have the perfect blackmail material.”

You smiled, as your gaze followed the curve of the cliff, white houses with blue roofs perched like pearls and the waves of the Aegean Sea crashing against the cliff edge at a rhythmic pace. A gentle breeze carried the scent of the sea and a faint hint of salt through the air.

You unconsciously slid your hand around Joshua's bicep, pulling him closer to you, so your hips bumped into each other when you walked.

“Did you ever think of saying no when I proposed to you?” He suddenly asked, his hand still in yours. You furrowed your brows at his question. “No,” you said immediately. “I always knew I’d say yes.”

A comfortable silence fell between you once again, but you could practically hear your husband think. “Why are you asking?”

“It’s just that…,” Joshua sighed, running a hand through his hair. You squeezed his hand a bit harder, as if you tried telling him “it’s okay, i’m here with you.” “I won’t be able to give you that usual married life, and sometimes I wonder whether it was a good thing I proposed.”

You knew exactly what he meant, because you had to deal with it from the day you started dating - you couldn’t go out to a restaurant to eat like a normal couple, you couldn’t say goodbye to him at the airport, and you had to set your Instagram profile to private. There were so many things that you had to give up on, but it didn’t change the fact that you’d do everything over again if it meant being with Joshua.

“We’ve talked about this so many times, honey. If I wasn’t okay with all of this we would’ve broken up a long time ago,” you stated, leaning your head on his arm. “Besides, we’re literally married, stop worrying about whether I wanted to say yes or no. Now come on, we have to reach the top before the sun starts setting.”

Joshua groaned, throwing his head back. “Ugh, give this grandpa a break.”

You laughed, bumping your hip into his. “You could've just said you didn’t want to go hiking, we would-.”

The words died in your throat and you let out a small cry as you felt Joshua’s arms wrap around your waist, as he picked you up and spun around. “I was just joking, darling,” he smiled, pecking your forehead, your back still close to his chest. “I would go to the end of the world with you if I had to,” he said, making kissy noises at you.

“Ew, stop saying stuff like that, or we’ll have to get divorced,” you whined, cringing at his words. You knew he was joking, but you couldn’t help but gag a little. “That was disgusting. Never say that again.”

Joshua laughed, placing a kiss on your cheek. “Sure thing, darling.”

You continued walking along the path, immersed in a conversation, your hand in his, to the point where the sky started slowly turning into a mix of pastel pinks and yellows. Neither of you seemed to care, though, it’s not like you could get lost on this little island.

“I don’t know if I’ve told you this today,” Joshua swung your intertwined fingers back and forth. “But you look very beautiful today,” he whispered, his breath tickling your ear, as a light blush creeped up on your cheeks. You tilted your head to look at him and scold him for being so sappy, Joshua was never the one for being so dramatically romantic, so you were really taken aback by his sudden change of behaviour.

But his gaze made you even more shy than his words. “Stop looking at me like that,” you mumbled, leaning your head on his arm, so you could escape his eyes. “Like what?”

“I don’t know. You just… you look so in love,” you bit your lip trying to find the right words without sounding pretentious, but that was exactly how he looked like. “Isn’t that a good thing?” Joshua laughed, his eyes turning into two crescent moons. “Aren’t I supposed to be in love with my darling wife?”

“Stop calling me that!” You slapped his shoulder, making Joshua laugh even more. He threw his arms around your shoulders, and trapped you in a warm hug, your face pressed against his chest. “You have no idea how glad I am that we're married,” he sighed, kissing the top of your head. “Now let’s go, I think there’s a path leading to the beach over there.”

[...]

“I should just pee on you.”

“Hell no.”

“Why not?”

“I won’t let you pee on me!”

“Well, I told you not to go near that jellyfish,” you said, splashing some water onto Joshua’s face. “It’s not my problem that you’re so stubborn.”

Joshua rolled his eyes, grabbing your foot, so you couldn't move.. “No matter how much I love you, I won’t ever let you pee on me,” he smiled, suddenly pulling you closer, making you yelp. “Joshua, you’ll make a mess,” you groaned, looking at the amount of water that splashed out of the tub.

The last thing you wanted was to clean up the bathroom on your first honeymoon night, just because your husband was in a silly goofy mood. “Oh come on, it’s not like you’ll drown.”

You huffed, resting your head on the edge of the tub, staring at the man in front of you. "When we first met, did you know that we would get this far?" He looked away thoughtfully, but you noticed a mischievous glint in his eyes, the same one he and Jeonghan had every time they were about to play a prank on someone. "Honestly, I didn't even like you at first."

“Joshua,” you whined and splashed his face again, but no matter how much he loved to annoy and tease you, you would let him do it all day long if it meant he’d smile as sincerely as he did in that moment - the corners of his mouth sweetly turned up and his eyes crinkled with laughter. “No but seriously, I have no idea. I think I didn’t think about a relationship when we met,” he looked at you, more serious this time. “It was after that one party at Mingyu’s-,”

“Which one? There were so many.”

Joshua laughed, brushing his wet hair away from his forehead. “You know which one. It was then when I started looking at you as more than a friend. But don’t you think that’s a good thing?”

“I guess so,” you slid your fingers over his hand that was resting on the edge of the tub. “We had the time to properly get to know each other, we didn’t rush into anything,” you murmured. “We didn’t feel any pressure. It all happened so naturally.”

“Like it was meant to be,” Joshua finished, grabbing your hand.

His slender finger ran over the ring on your finger, which you still couldn't get used to, but already loved with all your heart. The purple stone contrasted perfectly with the gold wedding band, and you knew someone would have to cut off your finger to get you to take the ring off.

"Why did you choose an amethyst? Wouldn't it be better to use a love stone or something?" Joshua asked thoughtfully. You smiled softly, stroking your thumb over Joshua’s hand. “Amethyst is a symbol of peace,” you said. "And that's what I want for us. For our future to be filled with love and happiness, but also peace."

"I know that not everything will be like in a normal marriage, at least in the beginning, but I want us to always keep that peace and remember that no matter what happens, we are in this together.”

You looked up at Joshua, whose eyes were welling up with tears, and it wasn’t easy to make your husband cry, so you weren't quite sure what to do. “Hey, honey,” you awkwardly moved closer to him, as much as the tub would allow. “Don't cry,” you grabbed Joshua’s face between your hands. "I'm not crying. I just..." he took a deep breath, closing his eyes. "I'm really glad I have you in my life. I love you."

You felt your own eyes fill with tears, but you didn't let them fall - you wouldn't cry on your honeymoon. “I love you too, Joshua Hong,” you rested your forehead against his, caressing his cheeks gently.

"As long as my heart is beating, I will always love you."

taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @eightlightstar @itza-meee @immabecreepin @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @dkswife @marisblogg @whatsgyud @aaniag @jeonghansshitester @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @soul-is-a-strange-kid @ohmyhuenings @nidda13

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onsunnyside · 2 years

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here's one of the prompts from this ask: presenting... camboy!Rafe

After yet another falling out with Ward, Rafe had to find some other way to make quick cash. He didn't expect to keep this virtual career going for over a year, growing to love the flattery and attention as much as his real-life hookups.

You're Sarah's best friend, a fellow kook-turned-pogue, and spent more time at the Cameron house than your own. This summer, Rafe travels back home from college and gets a little careless, so used to his private dorm where he didn't need to stifle any moans or dirty talk.

It's a late night by the pool, music plays from Kie's speaker and empty beer bottles litter the patio. John B and Sarah are cuddled by the stairs, chatting with Pope as JJ does his umpteenth cannonball, splashing you and Kie as you lounge on floaties.

Unfortunately, it's your turn to get more snacks and drinks. You begrudgingly trek through the big house, already a little inebriated. You gather chips, popcorn and beer on the shiny island counter before a loud noise catches your attention. Curiosity gets the better of you and you follow those strange noises and find yourself in front of Ward's office, the door just barely cracked open.

Rafe sits in his father's chair, pristine white shirt unbuttoned with a light sheen of sweat on his chest. Your eyes drift to his arm, the sleeves rolled up and muscles tense under his tanned skin. He murmurs something under his breath and you creep closer, trying to make out his words.

"Hm, is that so? You think you deserve my cock?" His pink lips stretch into a smug smirk, "you're gonna have to bend over my desk and show me where you want it."

The angle blocks his lower half, but you don't need to see it to know what he's doing—the jerking motions of his arm, the hitches in his breaths, and his blue gaze locked on the screen before him.

"If you beg real nice, I'll let you taste my cum. Shoot my load on your pretty face and claim you, maybe I'll even take a few pictures." Rafe groans heavily, his arm speeding up, "is that want you want? You wanna be daddy's little cumrag?"

For the next few days, you avoid him like the plague, but that's hard to do when it's his damn house. Every time he comes around, you slip away, muttering an excuse about going home or doing an errand. Sarah is the only one partly concerned since you were never at Rafe's throat like the rest of the Pogues.

Your luck had to run out at some point: he corners you at a kegger, you should've known he'd show up at the Boneyard with the rest of his friends.

"I've been back for a month and you haven't said more than three words to me."

You grip the solo cup tightly, nervously peering up at him, "hi, Rafe, how are you?"

He laughs, shaking his head. His new buzzcut makes him appear more rugged and confident. Ugh, he never used to make you weak in the knees, but now you're having trouble standing upright—hopefully, it's just the alcohol.

"I'd be better if you didn't look at me like I'm covered in blood. C'mon, you're Sarah's only friend that I can actually tolerate." He rolls his eyes, "don't tell me they turned you against me in a couple of months?"

me thinks... one thing leads to another and you're making out against his truck, your dress hiked up to your thighs as he hooks your knees around his hips. You pull away for a breath and his hand wraps around your throat, his wet lips trailing down to your jaw: "Is it bad that I want to get caught right now just to see the look on JJ's face?"

At the mention of your friends, you snap out of it and shove him away. Guilty and ashamed, you can't imagine what Sarah would think about you hooking up with her brother, and the rest of the Pogues definitely wouldn't be happy about it either.

You leave the party early and once again, avoid Rafe, going as far as faking sick when Sarah invites you over.

fast forward to the filthy stuff: don't even get me started on you starring in his cam shows. Rafe is all too eager to show his viewers every inch of you, how pretty you moan, how you melt with just the slighest of touches.

He's such a tease: he grinds his hard cock along your clothed cunt, showing his fans just how needy you get, "look at that, she's soaking her panties," he chuckles, reading the rush of comments on the laptop screen, "Yeah, she's gonna ruin them tonight—maybe we'll have a little fun and send them to the highest tipper. How's that sound, baby? You want a stranger owning your messy panties?"

He's obsessed with cum shots: he’ll cum on your pretty, tear-stained face or one of your used holes, "open wider for daddy." And of course, you obey, blinking up at him with his seed on your cheeks and lips. He leans down and spits, spreading his saliva and cum on your tongue, "such a good girl, you'd let me do anything to you, hm? You wanna show our fans how pretty you look right now?"

this au makes me very interested in Rafe's and reader's exhibitionist adventures 😳 ofc fooling around at the country club, mayhaps golf cart shenanigans, and definitely riding him in his truck... this will be a full fic 😌 or a collection of drabbles !! we'll see hehe

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starbandit · 1 year

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Summer Nights (Nick Furcillo)

Preview: Another tap. And another. You raised a shaky hand to peel the blinds apart, just enough for you to peek out.

Contains: making out, obvious crushing

word count- 2.3k/unedited

This summer was going to be the best summer of your life. There was no way anything was going to ruin it. You had managed to snag the dream job of anyone your age who was begging for a little bit of freedom from home. A camp counselor.

That’s right. Your summer was gonna be spent chasing sweaty pre-teens, fixing bee stings and splinters, and putting aloe on sunburns. But on top of that you were going to get to hike, and kayak around an island, and spend nights singing campfire songs. All while away from the real world, away from the stress of friends, of family, of school.

Your main stressors were the middle school arguments you had to be the mediator for. Emma was little to no help with it, instead instigating said fights by helping spread rumors for a little bit of ‘entertainment’. You could almost hear her voice, “I can’t wait to tell the boys about this”, while you were busy consoling campers over their week-long relationship.

You threw your tray down on the table, another night of soggy meat and limp veggies. Camp food was never good, almost always big pots of some kind of slop and frozen vegetables. Nutritionally balanced was a goddamn lie. Emma sat down next to you, giggling and smiling at Jacob who took the bench across from her.

“Oh, Jacob,” She laughed, covering her mouth. “You are hilarious!”

You rolled your eyes. Even if they wanted to deny their relationship, say they were friends or hate each other, there was no doubting that something was happening. Of course, you knew, with the amount of times she woke you up to sneak out to the docks with him, there would be no way you didn’t know.

Their conversation turned into background noise as your eyes caught someone walking towards your table. It was like something out of a movie, things moving in slow motion. Tight jeans hugged long, slender legs, a skinny waist hidden by a baggy t-shirt. Puppy dog eyes shining.

Nick smiled and greeted you as he sat down with his food. Dylan, Kaitlyn, and Ryan sat down soon after, all beginning to chat with each other as they choked down the ‘food’. You joined in the conversation, listening to Dylan spit out some pretty good one-liners, and caught the way Ryan looked at him while he did. You listened as they made the plans for a campfire, something fun for the end of the week. The plan was for everyone to meet by the lakeside for the bonfire on the beach and roast marshmallows and make smores with the campers. Maybe someone would bring a guitar or some spooky stories.

Soon dinner came to an end. Nick grabbed your tray before you even had a chance to react. “I’m on cleaning duty this evening.” He smiled. “I’ll still see you at the campfire tonight though, right?”

“Oh!” You smiled back, hoping the flush of your face wasn’t horribly obvious. “Of course, I-I will definitely see you tonight.” You nodded and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

Emma had already begun collecting the campers when you made your way to the table. She was helping the campers stack plates and trying to rush them to get to the showers as fast as possible.

You and Emma led the campers back to the cabin to grab shower caddies and made your way to the bathroom. Emma groaned as you guys walked into the bathroom. It reeked of bleach and mildew, and a mild stink of wet dog for some unknown reason. The floor was stained with years of mud and perpetually wet. The lights flickered and some of the shower curtains on the stalls were beginning to turn black on the bottom from all the moisture.

“All right campers! Each of you have… 6 minutes to shower!” Emma announced. “Save the hot water for everyone, please. I cannot take another ice bath tonight.” She rolled her eyes. You both made quick work of turning on the showers and assigning campers to each one to try and minimize the amount of time wasted.

“So, you excited for the bonfire tonight?” Emma questioned as she picked at her nails. “Gonna flirt with your boy toy?” She whispered, nudging you slightly.

“He’s not my boy toy!” You shook your head. Sure, you had a slight crush on Nick. He made your heart flutter, your cheeks get hot, your hands clammy. But it was only a slight crush… Right?

Emma hummed. “That’s right. You won’t make a move.” She laughed. “Can’t be yours if you won’t stake the claim.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’ll do it when I’m good and ready. We don’t even know if he likes me back.” You watched as two of the girls began trading body washes and combing each other's hair in the dirt stained mirrors.

When it was your turn to shower, you found yourself thinking about what Emma had said. Did she know something you didn’t? You let the cold water run over your skin for a little bit longer, washing any leftover soap off. You sighed as you turned the shower off and quickly got dressed, pulling pajamas over your still wet skin.

You trudged back to the cabin with the campers, listening to them chatter about how excited they were for the bonfire and to see ‘Counselor Dylannnnn’. You had a good giggle with Emma about the crushes the campers had on the counselors while everyone cleaned up their bunks and finished getting ready.

After a while, you guys finally left the cabin and began the short hike to the beach. The campers squealed and ran off the second they saw the glow of the fire and joined their friends on the blankets set up on the beach. Jacob and Ryan were throwing more kindling on the fire while Nick was helping a younger camper zip their jacket. Your heart ached at the sight.

“Good with kids.” Emma teased as she pushed by you. “We’re here!” She called out.

Nick looked up at the call and smiled when he spotted you. The kid he was helping ran off as soon as his jacket was zipped. “Y/N!” He waved. “Come sit.”

You made your way over, taking in the smell of the fire before sitting on the log next to Nick. You could hear giggles of the campers just a few feet away on the shore, a few of them dipping their toes in which landed them a scolding from Ryan.

You guys sat in silence for a while, watching as everyone chilled out and played around as the sun went down. You kept your eyes on the fire, the flames warming your face. It was almost perfect. That was, until Dylan and Kaitlyn approached.

“We have S’MORES!” Dylan shouted, holding up some bags. The campers cheered and raced over, trying to grab at the ingredients to make the sweets. “Woah, woah, one at a time, ya little goblins!” He laughed.

“We need a line!” Kaitlyn called out. “And for you guys to be safe, and smart, about the marshmallows and fire!”

You helped the kids place the marshmallows on the ends of (mostly clean) sticks and showed them how to roast the perfect marshmallow. Kaitlyn was trying to avoid burns at all costs, even if that meant physically pulling kids back from the fire. Jacob and Emma had disappeared, no doubt off into the bushes somewhere to make out and baby talk to each other.

Once all the kids had their fill of s’mores, the counselors decided to make a few of their own. You had a weak spot for the gooey goodness of a charred marshmallow and melted chocolate. You ate your treat while Ryan began the scary campfire stories to the kids.

“Hey,” a voice sounded in your ear. You turned your head and came face to face with Nick. “You got a little, uh…” He motioned to his own cheek. You felt your face heat up in embarrassment. Food on your face? What were you? 4? “Let me.”

He lifted a hand to your face, gently rubbing the chocolate off the corner of your mouth with his thumb. “Beautiful.” He smiled before popping the thumb in his mouth and sucking the chocolate off. “And tasty.”

You were praying that only you could hear the pounding in your ears. And that the fire could be to blame on how hot and red your face was. You could hear the teasing from Emma already.

“T-thanks.” You weren’t sure if you should thank him. He had just indirectly licked chocolate off your face. Kaitlyn winked at you from her spot next to Ryan when you looked back over. What was happening?

The rest of the bonfire went by like a blur. Your mind was too focused on Nick to even somewhat focus on the story Ryan was telling. Something about a hag of the campsite? Who even knows.

Now here you are, in your uncomfortable cabin bed, with your hands crossed over your tummy as you stared up at the ceiling. Your mind was racing, thinking about anything and everything. Did Nick like you? Was this some long con joke from everyone? You wanted to scream into your pillow but couldn’t risk waking any of the campers.

A tap on your window nearly made you risk that. You whipped your head to the side and stared at the window, crappy plastic blinds were the only thing keeping whatever the hell that was from seeing you. Another tap. And another. You raised a shaky hand to peel the blinds apart, just enough for you to peek out.

And there he was. Nick. Dressed in a pair of pajamas and with messy bed head, looking as cute as ever. He smiled at you, his flashlight pointed down. He motioned for you to join him. You rolled out of bed and trudged over to Emma, poking her until she acknowledged you.

“Nick, I know.” She groaned. “Go, I got this.” She waved you off.

You nodded even though she couldn’t see you in the almost pitch black darkness of the cabin. You slipped on your shoes and quietly left the cabin, the door creaking shut. You took a deep breath and walked down the steps to meet Nick.

“Hey,” He greeted. “I hope I didn’t wake you.” He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “Thinking about it now, maybe coming to ask you to go for a walk with me in the middle of the night wasn’t the best idea.”

You giggled. “It’s okay, I couldn’t fall asleep anyway.” The two of you began walking out of the campsite and onto one of the trails. Conversation flowed naturally, ranging from home life to the possibility of aliens invading the planet.

You two came to a clearing, the open night sky glimmering above you. Thousands of bright stars littered the sky and you sighed at the serenity of it. You and Nick sat on a fallen log, both admiring the sky. Crickets sounded in the grass around you.

“It’s beautiful.” Nick whispered.

You hummed in agreement. A cool breeze tickled your skin and you shivered, goosebumps raising on your arms. You wrapped your arms around yourself, rubbing your hands up and down in an attempt to create some sort of warmth.

“Oh,” Nick noticed. “Here,” He slid his jacket off and helped you into it. The warmth instantly sent butterflies to your stomach. The scent of Nick filled your nose and that alone made your cheeks hot. “Is that better?”

“Yes, thank you.” You curled into the jacket, letting the warmth hug you. You both sat in a comfortable silence for a while before you noticed Nick had gotten closer to you. His thigh brushed yours, causing you to look over.

“Is this okay?”

You smiled and nodded. “Yeah, this is okay.” You scooched a little closer, your legs now pressed together. You had begun to feel a little more brave and decided to rest your head on his shoulder, staring out at the view. You could hear Nick’s heart beat through the crickets, the sound pounding against your ear. “Hey, Nick?” You questioned softly.

“Yeah?” He responded, resting his head on yours for a second.

You stayed silent for a few seconds, enjoying the moment. You wanted to soak this up before you possibly ruined the entire friendship. “How do you feel about me?”

Nick gently shifted, adjusting to sit somewhat facing you. “How do you think I feel about you?”

“I asked first.”

Nick stared at you for a second before lifting a hand and brushing your hair back. His hand came to rest under your chin. “I think that you are one of the most beautiful things here… And in the short time we have known each other I find my heart pounding and hands sweaty whenever you’re around. Is that gross?” He questioned. “Y/N, I feel like I have a middle school crush when I’m around you.”

You smiled and leaned in, catching Nick in a sudden kiss. He tensed up at first and then soon melted into the kiss, hands reaching around to your back to pull you closer to his body. His hands sprawled across your back, fingers digging into the soft fabric of the jacket. He deepened the kiss, tongue poking your bottom lip.

You smiled against his mouth and opened up, allowing him to pull you in. Your hands came to rest on his chest, feeling the muscle under the thin shirt he had on. You kissed each other slowly, exploring each other's mouths and testing the waters with what the other person liked.

After a bit, you both pulled away. Nick’s lips were shiny, pink, and slightly swollen. He looked even more kissable than before. He had an almost drunken smile on his face. He leaned forward again, this time resting your foreheads together.

“After camp, after summer is over, I’d love to take you on a real date. Restaurant, flowers, everything. What do you say?” He whispered.

“I’d be stupid to say no.”

#pls i wanted to make this smut #might make a part 2 for smut #nick furcillo #the quarry #the quarry fanfic #the quarry fic #the quarry x reader #nick furcillo x reader #the quarry nick #nick fanfic #nick fluff #nick furcillo fluff #nick furcillo fanfic #the quarry fluff #video game fanfic #this isnt my usual content but i have a fat crush on this man

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andypantsx3 · 1 year

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TODOROKI SHOUTO : MASTERLIST

please be respectful! do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or otherwise share on other platforms. all my reader characters are fem + afab unless otherwise specified. please see individual fic posts for nsfw ratings and other warnings!

shouto writing tag | universal masterlist

MULTI-CHAPTER

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Todoroki Shouto is so unsettlingly beautiful, you’re certain he has to be an omega. That is, until a chance encounter with a pushy alpha reveals you were incredibly mistaken—and the surprises don’t stop there. Shouto's suddenly mystifying behavior adds another layer of complexity to an already confusing inter-agency investigation. It would be so much easier to figure things out—and suppress your growing feelings—if only Shouto would stop being so strangely attentive to you...

something in the water (est. 24K) : in progress

As a future marine biologist, you’ve scored big on your final internship: a summer in the tropics, researching the waters off the coast of a lush, sunny island. But what you thought would be all beach days and piña coladas turns out to be the revelation of a lifetime when you haul in a handsome merprince, and discover not everything in these waters is quite as it seems.

fingerprints (38K) : complete

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vested interest (19.5K) : complete

You’d just thought Shouto was absent minded, accidentally leaving behind a jacket or a sweater or his vest. You didn’t realize this was a thing. (In which Todoroki Shouto—despite his quirk—has zero chill, and uses his clothes to ward off other men.)

if i could keep cool (20K) : complete

A villain attacks Shouto Todoroki’s apartment and kidnaps what he apparently believes to be Todoroki’s secret lover. The bad news—for both you and the villain in question—is that you’re just there to clean the place. That’s how it starts.

[smutty one shot follow on: say the word and you know i'll follow]

Deceiving the Duke (30K) : complete

When Camie Utsushimi elopes on the eve of her society debut, scandal threatens to destroy the family’s prospects. It’s up to you, a lady’s maid, to impersonate Camie throughout the Season, long enough that her elder sister can make a match. The only trouble? Lord Shouto Todoroki is also intent on making a match—and that match, quite impossibly, appears to involve you.

in cinders (25K) : complete

You’re just trying to fairy godmother your best friend into a happily ever after. If only the prince would stop hanging around and cooperate. (A Cinderella AU)

when i make you mine (24K) : complete In order to placate your anxious mother, you agree to return to your hometown to participate in a mating run—knowing full well that betas rarely get chased, never mind betas nearly old enough to age out of the practice. You’ve decided to treat it like a vacation, a chance to visit with your childhood friends, the mating run itself a nice relaxing hike. All in all it’s a solid plan—until alpha Todoroki Shouto, your best friend's little brother, steps in and blows it all to pieces.

conspire (13K) : complete

Shouto Todoroki had definitely only asked you out in order to ward off his horde of interested suitors. So why does he keep actually taking you out on suspiciously realistic dates?

subtle (4.5K) : complete

Someone leaves chocolates on your desk. You’re determined to track down the sender, certain it’s a mistake, and Shouto Todoroki makes himself as unhelpful as possible.

demon prince au (various): ongoing

Things seem to going well with the prince of hell you've accidentally taken home. Until a surprise visitor makes an appearance, and Shouto must take action to stake his claim on you.

ONE SHOTS

mr. tokyo beat hottest hero (3.8K)

Shouto finds out he’s hot. He swiftly uses this knowledge against you.

on ice (2.6K)

Your pro hero boyfriend ices you to the counter and has his way with you.

pretty boy (4.1K)

You have strong feelings about Shouto’s scar. Shouto finds them…surprising.

slip (2.5K) - gn!reader

No one knows who the villain Shouto really is, or what he wants with Endeavor. All you know is that you never should have drawn his notice.

just my (blood) type (5.3K)

The real Halloween treat was how sinfully handsome Todoroki Shouto looked in his vampire costume. But that wouldn’t be enough to save him from the petty wrath of one drunk lobster. (In which you suffer deeply, wingwoman a friend, and pick a fight with the hottest boy at UA.)

loads of fun (2.8K) - gn!reader

After moving into your first apartment together, Shouto seems more amorous than ever. You're not sure why—but when he comes home to you doing a load of laundry, more than your clothes are about to get tumbled.

home, safe, yours (2K) - gn!reader

After a rough day, you take care of your pro hero boyfriend.

happy edgings (1K)

Shouto discovers a new concept and quickly sets about mastering it. You either benefit or suffer, depending on how you look at it.

confetti confessions (2.3K)

A slight misunderstanding at Shouto’s birthday party achieves unexpected results.

in any universe (1.7K) - gn!reader

Shouto is the prince of an alien species that mates for life—which surely has absolutely nothing to do with you, the little human cadet deployed with the treaty party to his planet.

balm (2.2K) - gn!reader

You help rub down your boyfriend's muscles after a grueling shift. And then, a little more.

damage (1.6K)

When you get hit by a quirk, Shouto gets protective. Idiocy ensues.

peony for your thoughts (2.1K) - gn!reader

Florist AU: You enter Shouto’s flower shop, and leave with a little bit more than you expected.

say the word and you know i’ll follow (3.3K)

While moving in with Shouto, you get caught up reliving the scene of his confession. Quite literally.

[a smutty one shot sequel to if i could keep cool]

DRABBLES + PROMPT FICLETS

a/b/o au (0.5K)

You think Todoroki Shouto is so pretty he has to be an omega. You quickly find out you are very, very wrong.

dragon au drabble series (various lengths)

You accidentally bring home a dragonling one day. He grows up...possessive.

seven minutes in heaven (1K)

Shouto is unfamiliar with a well-known game.

todobakureader domestic fluff (1K)

The sound of muffled arguing in the kitchen wakes you up on Saturday morning.

turn the heat up (0.7K)

On a lazy afternoon, your boyfriend Shouto is up to no good.

priceless (0.8K)

You get weird around all the expensive things in Shouto's apartment. Shouto shows you what's truly priceless to him.

kabedon (1.7K)

Shouto learns what kabedonning is. You benefit.

wrong address (0.6K)

A mistake leads pro hero Shouto to your door. You promptly embarrass yourself.

attention (0.6K)

“You’re going to regret that, sweetheart.”

melt (1K)

“What? Does that feel good?”

drunk shouto (0.7K)

Shouto gets handsy when he's drunk.

pet names (0.3K)

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marked up (0.7K)

Shouto goes little shit mode. You (and Class A) suffer.

#character: todoroki shouto #andie's writing

844 notes · View notes

libraryofgage · 10 months

Text

PJO Steddie Five

One | Two | Three | Four

Here it is! We learn El's parent in this one, and there's a wonderfully healthy dose of Steddie throughout the whole part.

There's a meme on this one, too lol

If you see any typos, no you didn't ^_^

-----

It should not have taken five days to drive from Athens, Tennessee, to Camp Half-Blood in Long Island. Eddie wouldn't be surprised if Chrissy and his bandmates thought he'd died some horrible death while on this retrieval. But Eddie would love to meet the person who can tell Steve and a gaggle of demigod children to hurry up and get to camp already. They spent two days at Hearth and Home just for the pool, and various stops along the way followed that same pattern.

It was, in all honesty, the most relaxed retrieval mission Eddie has ever fucking experienced. Only one monster ever gave them trouble (another harpy--go figure--that Steve dispatched with ease and no injury) while the rest would sniff around and eventually have their eyes glaze over like they'd lost interest or encountered something familiar. They'd then move on, leaving the group to continue their meal in relative peace.

But for as relaxed as Eddie and the kids are, Steve is ramped to the absolute limit. His shoulders remain tense, his leg bounces whenever he sits still too long, his eyes constantly survey their surroundings, and he seems to have placed a distance between himself and Eddie. It hurts to see, especially considering the literal spark between them, but Eddie tells himself it's just until they get to camp and Steve sees for himself that they're safe.

And that moment is getting closer as they hike up Half-Blood Hill, Steve's car left at the foot until Eddie can convince Chiron and Mr. D to let him park it in the camp itself. "That big tree there is where the protective barrier starts," Eddie explains, pointing at Thalia's tree. "It used to be a girl, but there was a whole thing with the Golden Fleece, and long story short, she's running around with Artemis now."

"Can I run around with Artemis?" Max asks, her voice eager as she falls back to keep pace with Steve and Eddie.

Steve snorts, and Eddie notices the way his hand tightens on his bat. His knuckles turn white and the muscles in his forearm straining slightly and Eddie has to look away before his mouth gets too dry. "Maybe when you're older," Steve says, "After you can beat me in a spar."

Max groans, stomping her way back to Lucas with hunched shoulders and a quiet mutter that she won't be winning anytime soon.

They reach the top of the hill then, and Eddie watches as the group slows down. El in particular falls back until she's next to Steve and can grip his hand tightly. Her beanie seems to be squirming, but the movement is so subtle that Eddie thinks he's probably seeing the air ripples from the heat. He hurries to the front of the group and grins at them. "Okay! You ready to enter Camp Half-Blood, AKA the best place ever?" he asks.

"Just get on with it already," Mike says, crossing his arms as Erica nods in agreement.

Eddie, in an incredibly mature move, sticks out his tongue, and he's rewarded with a quiet laugh from Steve. "As I was saying, once you pass by the tree, I'll introduce you to Chiron, the activities director here. After that, we'll get cabin arrangements, measure you for armor and swords, and give a full tour. Of course, I'll be the one showing you around, which means you'll be getting the best possible version of the tour."

He waits for applause, but it never comes, and Eddie pouts at them. "Can't you be more excited? This is, like, the first time I've managed to bring back kids who aren't terrified."

"Oh boy," Dustin says, his voice high and fake, "I can't wait for Eddie to show us around Camp Half-Blood."

"Joke all you like, Henderson, I'm taking it as a compliment," Eddie says, darting forward and pushing down the bill of Dustin's cap. He moves back easily and claps his hands. "Okay! Step on through, please."

The kids all glance back at Steve, and he smiles encouragingly. As a group, they move past the perimeter of the tree until only Steve and El are left standing on the edge. Eddie flashes a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, it's gonna be great. El and the kids can meet more demigods their age, and you, Stevie, can relax since you won't have any monsters coming after you."

Steve nods and looks at El. "You ready?" he asks. She holds his hand even tighter--and Eddie is starting to worry about Steve's bones here--but nods.

Together, they step over the threshold.

Or, well, Steve does. El is stuck on the other side, Steve's hand still in hers but unable to pull her through. Her shoulders drop, and despite Steve's best efforts, she can't get an inch over the barrier that ripples between them. Resigned, she looks down at their hands, her grip starting to loosen some.

Eddie stares at this scene with wide eyes, and a few things suddenly make sense. No wonder Steve wouldn't say who El's godly parent is. She technically doesn't have one. The odd protectiveness makes a lot of sense now, too. And so does the way monsters would apparently move on like the gaggle of demigods was uninteresting.

"Well," Steve says, breaking Eddie out of his epiphany, "we gave it a shot."

With that, he steps back through the barrier, the rest of the kids quickly follow suit, and Eddie can feel them slipping through his fingers. "Wait!" he shouts, relieved when Steve looks up at him.

He's about to give El permission, to say everything is gonna be fine, to beg on his fucking knees if that will keep Steve--and the kids, of course--from walking away.

This is, of course, when the fucking armored and armed barrier patrol (a tradition that never really faded despite the camp's renewed safety) decides to show up.

Eddie just can't get a fucking break, huh?

-------

The moment arrows, swords, and spears (among other weapons) are aimed at them, Steve shoves the kids behind him. El sticks the closest, practically hugging his back, but he knows she'll pull away if it comes down to a fight. Steve twirls his bat, his eyes narrowed as he takes stock of his potential opponents.

The barrier shimmers between the two groups, a slight haze in his vision, and Eddie stands in the middle, one foot on each side of the barrier, looking a little frazzled. That's when a girl comes forward, her blonde hair pulled in a ponytail, a bow in hand, and her quiver slung over her shoulder. She smiles at Eddie, bright like the sun, and Steve feels a familiar-but-not kind of buzzing under his skin.

"Eddie! You're okay!" she shouts, dashing forward and hugging him tightly.

Steve's throat feels tight as Eddie hugs her back, his grip on the bat straining until he hears the reinforced wood groan and forces himself to loosen up. "Eddie," he says, a huge part of him relieved when Eddie immediately looks at him.

The girl looks between the two of them, and her eyes widen, and she smiles excitedly, and Steve suddenly feels a little better.

"Hello, I'm Chrissy," she says, walking over to stand across the barrier from Steve. "We got an alert that a monster was trying to cross, so we came to offer help. Everything looks fine, though, so come on through."

Steve feels El tug on the back of his shirt as the kids shift nervously. "We're good, actually," Lucas blurts out, unable to handle the silence.

Chrissy blinks, her smile still present but her eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "You're...good?" she asks.

"Yeah," Steve says, licking his lips nervously, "I'm sure Camp Half-Blood is fun and all, but we can't stay."

"Why not? You'll be safer here."

Steve doesn't know how to answer that question, and El spares him the effort of trying to by saying, "I can't get through." He wants to spin around and grab her shoulders and ask what she's thinking, but it's El's choice to tell people, no matter how much Steve might disagree with her.

"Oh," Chrissy says, her smile dimming some before she brightens again. "Are you mortal? That's okay, we can just give you permission."

It's the perfect excuse, and Steve is ready to fucking run with it, but El shakes her head. "I'm not mortal," she says.

A heavy silence falls over the group on the other side of the barrier as the demigods understand what she means. "What kind of monster are you?" a boy asks, his hand twitching as though ready to reach for an arrow.

"Look, it doesn't matter," Steve says, a bad feeling forming in his gut. His nerves start buzzing on instinct, crackling and pulling at the clouds just a tiny bit. "We'll leave you alone and go our separate ways. You'll....you'll never see us again." And Steve can't help his voice softening, glancing at Eddie as he says that last part.

Because he wants to see Eddie again. He wants to learn about the literal spark they shared. He wants to know if Eddie's lips are soft or rough. But Steve always puts the kids first. Their safety comes before everything else, even himself.

"Wait! There's no need to go," Eddie says, holding his hands out to both sides but looking at Steve. "El isn't dangerous. We can still give her permission."

"Like Hades we are!" the same boy shouts.

"Jason!" Chrissy says, her tone hard as she whirls around.

Jason looks insulted and confused. "What are you yelling at me for? I'm not the one trying to bring a fucking monster into camp."

"She's not a monster! Stop saying that," Mike shouts, trying to push forward only for Steve to push him right back.

"Oh? Then what is she?" Jason asks.

"Her name is El," Steve says, his voice hard and unforgiving, "and she is my sister."

Several of the campers' eyes widen, and suddenly their bows are loaded and ready to shoot. "You brought two monsters to camp!" a girl shouts, glaring at Eddie.

Steve frowns, trying to control the building anger and wariness. Based on the slowly gathering clouds overhead, it's not working.

"Those things are dangerous," Jason says, his eyes narrowed. "I bet the rest are monsters in disguise, too."

"No!" Eddie shouts, "they got through the barrier."

"Oh? Prove it. Walk through right now."

The kids don't move an inch and neither does Steve. Chrissy turns back to them, an uncomfortable grimace tugging at her lips. "It would really help to diffuse things if you could just step over," she says softly.

"Not without El," Max says, glaring at the group.

"Or Steve," Lucas adds.

Despite everything, Steve can't help a wry smile and a joking, "Gee, thanks for thinking of me," thrown over his shoulder.

"Well, isn't that convenient," Jason sneers, "None of the monsters want to cross."

He pulls his bowstring back a little farther, and the clouds above them start to gather faster, tiny sparks jumping under Steve's hand on the bat. He grits his teeth, trying desperately to not get lost in anger, and takes a deep breath. "Listen, this obviously isn't going to work," he says, looking at Eddie. He smiles apologetically. "Thank you for trying, though. It was...a nice thought."

And then several things happen all at once.

Eddie's eyes widen, desperation seeps into them, and he shouts, "I give El permission to cross the barrier!"

El starts to move around Steve like she wants to talk to Chrissy herself, her beanie squirming obviously.

The rest of the kids behind Steve get caught up in El's movements and try to follow, pushing Steve forward a step and bumping El slightly to the side.

His annoyance flares, and dark clouds stretch above them with a quiet, nearly inaudible rumble of thunder.

Finally, an arrow is loosed from the group of demigods, and its path would have been true if not for the kids pushing Steve. Instead, it shoots El's beanie clear off her head and lands in the grass behind the kids, just barely missing Dustin and Will in the process.

Really, Steve can't be blamed for what happened next. Between El's snakes freaking out and the kids shouting and the arrow in the grass overpowering his vision, he really can't be blamed.

It's only understandable that he loses it, that his tenuous control fucking snaps.

A bellowing crack of thunder above them is the only warning the demigods get before a bolt of lightning strikes the ground right next to them. The sheer force of it creates a whole nearly two feet deep, knocking the demigods back a few feet as more bolts follow in its wake. Each one burns the ground where it strikes, and tiny fires feed on the grass.

Little arches of lightning jump across Steve's arms, his hair fluffing out slightly from the static. His chest is heaving from anger and electricity and the aftermath of so much tension finally breaking free as bolts corral the demigods into a tiny circle, striking all around them to prevent escape.

"Steve," El says, the sound of her grabbing his attention more than her words. But when Steve looks at her and sees the snakes on her head rubbing against each other and tasting the air and trying to stay as close to her scalp as possible, his anger flares again at the reminder of the arrow that could have killed his kids. Not only the arrow, but El's snakes could have hurt them, too. If not for the kids immediately squeezing their eyes shut, a few might be statues right now. Sure, it would wear off in a bit, and Steve is immune anyway since he's related to El, but it's fucking inconvenient and dangerous given the situation.

"Stay back," he growls, his words crackling with the lightning as he turns back to the demigods. They look scared shitless, and Steve hasn't even done anything yet. The only ones who haven't been corralled are Chrissy and Eddie, since neither of them actually did anything.

He steps forward, an arch of lightning stretching between his heel and the ground when he lifts his foot. The nails on his bat spark and glow red, looking nearly as angry as Steve feels. Steve crosses the barrier, feels it wash over him, and stops just on the other side. He smiles at the demigods, feral and unrestrained as a storm, and raises his hand to the sky.

Or he starts to only for his view to be blocked by brown hair in desperate need of a good shampoo and big brown eyes. Steve blinks, a tiny portion of his anger calming if only because he's looking at Eddie. "Move, Eds," he says.

"Stevie," Eddie whispers, his voice nearly drowned out by the rumbling thunder. So Steve pulls it back, forces it to quiet down so he can hear. "C’mon, sweetheart, there's no need to smite them. They've already peed themselves."

"They almost killed my kids," Steve says, his eyes narrowing slightly. "What would you do if you were me?"

"Well, I wouldn't look nearly as hot, for one," Eddie jokes, flashing a shaky smile.

"You're already plenty hot," Steve blurts, the shock of the words calming him down a tiny bit more. And, when he hears Lucas and Erica behind him complain as El thanks Will for retrieving her beanie, his anger finally soothes enough for lightning to stop striking the ground. The clouds are still hanging over them, though, and sparks still arch across his arms and through his hair.

Eddie's smile becomes a bit wider. "Seriously, sweetheart, there's no need," he promises. "I already gave El permission to enter. She can cross the barrier. Word will spread in camp that nobody can mess with her without getting their shit rocked by a very powerful son of Zeus. Don't you want to relax? Don't you want the kids to meet others like them? Don't you...don't you want to, you know, spend time together?"

Steve does want all of that. Especially that last one, because he's never been talked down from an unbridled, anger-fueled, lighting strike marathon this easily. Usually, the kids have to let him work through the anger and vent it all before he's back to normal.

He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes to focus on calming down. When Eddie hesitantly takes his hand, Steve calms down even faster, and the sparks that pass between their palms are harmless. "That's it, Stevie," Eddie whispers as Steve's shoulders relax. "Besides, you can always beat Jason's ass at capture the flag later."

Steve can't help laughing at that, and he opens his eyes to see Eddie's smile. "Looking forward to it," he says, squeezing Eddie's hand. Then he looks over his shoulder at the kids. "Is everyone okay?" he asks.

The kids are all gathered around El, who has secured her beanie over her head. Unfortunately, the arrow made a larger hole than expected, and two of her snakes are poking their heads out, tongues flicking as they taste the air. They aren't strong enough on their own to actually turn anyone to stone, so none of the kids avoid looking at them.

"We are fine," El says with a tiny smile as she steps forward. Steve is about to tell her to be careful when she walks through the barrier without a problem.

The other kids follow, sticking close to El and then orbiting toward Steve and Eddie. "That was awesome!" Dustin shouts, his eyes bright as he looks at the scorch marks that create a circle around the demigods that haven't moved an inch.

"Yes, it was awesome," a voice says, old and wise and belonging to a centaur that has trotted over from the camp gates and comes to a stop before them. "Though, probably not in the way you mean, young one."

"Chiron, hey, how's it going?" Eddie asks, rubbing the back of his neck as he shifts to stand in front of Steve. "This, uh, was all a misunderstanding, really."

Chiron raises an eyebrow at Eddie, but Steve can see the twinkle of amusement in his eyes. "I see. Is that so, Chrissy?" he asks.

"Yeah, it is," Chrissy says, nodding once as she glances at Jason, "because Jason was trigger-happy and wouldn't let anyone talk."

"I see," Chiron says again, looking back at Steve and the kids behind him. "Well, I look forward to hearing all about it and getting to know our potential campers at the Big House. Over some snacks, perhaps?"

He seems nice enough, and something about Chiron just makes Steve feel confident that nothing will happen to the kids. At least, not for the next hour or so, and that's good enough. Still, he can't help pushing just to see the extent of Chiron's patience. "Even if my sister's mother is a gorgon?" he asks, watching Chiron closely.

"Am I correct in assuming her mother is Medusa?" Chiron asks.

"Yes," El says, answering for Steve as the two snakes poking through rub their heads on Steve's arm. "She's very nice."

Chiron seems to be holding back an amused smile at that, and he nods. "I'm sure," he says, nodding once. "Yes, you are still welcome, my dear. After all, our very own Eddie Munson has vouched for you."

Steve can feel the kids behind him relaxing, and he glances at Eddie to see the relieved smile on his face. "Okay then," he says, looking back at Chiron, "lead the way."

----

Tag List

@mugloversonly, @mentallyundone, @hairdryerducks-blog, @carriethesaint, @lunabyrd, @weekend-dreamer7, @farfaras, @littlelady03, @my-tears-are-becoming-a-sea20, @mogami13, @a-little-unsteddie, @itsall-taken, @queenie-ofthe-void, @tinyplanet95, @littlebluejane, @hangoversandhandgrenades, @rabbitwhoeatsstars, @bisexualdisastersworld, @steddieinthesun,

@paintgonewrong, @sadcanadianwinter, @deehellcat, @blanketlicker, @angrydonutdestiny, @booksareportal, @fallingchemicaldiscos, @am-i-obssed-probably, @anne-bennett-cosplayer

@estrellami-1, @fandomcartographer, @steddie-as-they-go, @cris-wants-a-word, @potato-of-the-lord, @plasticcrotches, @enigmahaze, @melodymeddler

And now, the quality meme you've all been waiting for

#steddie #steddie fic #semi divine steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #my writing

279 notes · View notes

packsvlog · 3 months

Text

➥ ──── BARBIELAND ‼️ AND KEN. ღ

inumaki y/n is the older sister of toge, she is in her second year of college, majoring in journalism — says is because she loves gossip. her campus life is completely normal, nobody pays attention to her and she likes it that way, although on her social medias, is quite the contraire. she has gained a large amount of followers on twitter due to her unhinged sexual posts, and on instagram is all thanks to her friend kirara. y/n has been best friends with yuki and utahime since high school, she met kirara in college when they asked out of the nowhere for y/n to be their model, since then the squad has been formed with the addition of hakari, kira’s boyfriend. y/n’s ex boyfriend and her had been dating for four years, in which two of those were long distance, he broke up with her recently and she has been a pain in the ass for everyone with all the pent up energy.

utahime iori is a law student, at first she had no idea if it was the career path for her, until her friends reminded the girl of her love for arguing and winning. soon, she became number one of her classes! utahime is not found of new friendships at first, but when she does open to new people, she adores them, still, no matter how much they beg, kirara still can’t take pictures of utahime. the girl is a bit shy with cameras. besides her group of friends, she is close to her classmate hiromi higuruma, and it’s a big fan of him to date her friend, y/n. oh, fun fact, she is in love with shoko ieiri, who is friends with the people from campus utahime despises.

tsukumo yuki is a marine biologist student, she is often taking trips for the nearest beach, kirara soon to follow because they want to make her their model as well. yuki is very private with her instagram account, only uses it to show whatever she found at the beach or kirara’s clothes. on her twitter she prefers to let herself loose and post whatever is on her mind. whenever the group goes to the beach, they all have to play mermaid with yuki, no one dares complain. she is the one in charge of the trips after every semester, this year her plan is to take her friends to watch whales on an island or to go mountain hiking.

hoshi kirara is easily one of the most popular people on campus, since their first day at jujutsu tech, they have been calling attention. that is mostly because of their striking makeup at seven am and their self made clothes, after all, kirara is not a fashion student for nothing. they have been in a serious relationship with hakari ever since they transitioned in their second year of high school — no one has never disrespected them because everyone is terrified of hakari, and kirara totally uses that in their favor. kirara loves to make clothes for themselves and their friends, but they have an even bigger love for photography, that’s why everywhere they go, a camera is always near. on every social media, kirara is a hit, trendsetter.

hakari kinji is a simp, although for the looks of his blank face no one could tell. that’s until he opens his mouth, mentioning his partner is the first thing he does everyday. hakari had no idea what to do for college, so he followed his baby, and fortunately, he has a gift for fashion, his true love is modeling for kirara and dying his hair. he got into MIB by pure luck, Gojo Satoru thought he looked cool on the first year and asked him to come for the tryouts, kirara threatened him that if hakari became a frat asshole, they would break up — lucky for him, kirara ends up warming up to his new friends. thanks to MIB reputation and trending tik tok account, he gained a lot of followers on his social media, but since most are people desperate for him and his friends, he doesn’t follow or interact with them, specially on twitter, he only follows his friends.

✶ 𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: all the appearances, specially reader’s, are just for reference, there is no fancast just pics with the characters vibes. you can imagine them as you please.

✶ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: please comment if you would like to be tagged. all the chapters will be linked in this post and with the first tag @minzxec @d3jecteddoll @shuuji71 @emilyywhyy

#♱ 𓂃 ࣪ ˖ fancam ! ᯤ #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #smau #gojo x reader #geto x reader #toji x reader #shiu kong x reader #hiromi higuruma x reader #ino takuma x reader #sukuna x reader #nanami x reader #choso x reader

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highvern · 10 months

Text

Teach Me IV

extra credit

Pairing: Lee Dokyeom (Seokmin) x fem!reader

Genre: smut, humor, college au, frat!svt

Warnings: mentions of drug use (weed) and alcohol , phone sex, exchange of nudes, both are down horrendous, mutual masturbation, making out, dry humping, idiots in like, dokyeom has a praise kink and isn't ashamed, snippets of disgusting fluff

Length: ~5.1k

Note: ugh ... anyways! i know i mentioned potential angst in an ask but i'm weak

read more here

The best part of starting Fall Break on a Friday is having to do absolutely nothing for five blissful days. But because he is easily swindled by his friends, Dokyeom is ass over tits and the clock hasn’t even chimed 8PM. After the incredibly awkward week following your latest tryst, he’s thankful for the mind numbing freedom of alcohol, weed, and nothing but miles of mountain and woods.

Or he would be if wasn’t still upset you turned down his invitation to join him this weekend.

So he sneaks into his room and pulls up your Instagram. You're at the top of his results when he clicks into the search bar.

You posted a new photo this afternoon. A memory of a girls night out, sandwiched between two of your friends outside some bar, nothing but wide drunk smiles and closed eyes under the flash of the camera. Dokyeom already saw it. Already liked it.

He keeps scrolling, down down down till he reaches his favorite picture. A frozen memory of you outside some cafe, slumped in an iron wrought chair, sunglasses obscuring half of your face; your mouth is spread over a wild guffaw, teeth flashing and the corner of your lips arched high in amusement. Whatever had amused you pulled your entire body in, shoulders curved up as your chest caves, chin tipped back.

The soft pink sundress hugging you snugly is an added bonus.

And somewhere in his muddled mind, Dokyeom decides he needs to talk to you. Right. Now.

After the third ring, the call connects.

“Heyyy, pretty lady.”

“Oh my god, are you drunk?” You laugh, and Dokyeom can imagine the same expression from the photo flashing across your face.

God, she even sounds pretty. He thinks.

He whines through the goofy smile plucking the corners of his lips, “Nooooo.”

“Oh, really?”

“Maybe I’m a little drunk.”

“Only a little?” You jest.

“Maybe a lot-tle.”

“I can tell.”

“Wish you were here.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Haven’t seen you in like a week.”

If he wasn’t wasted then he might feel embarrassed, but Dokyeom finds the words slipping past him without a second thought as he rocks back and forth, caught in waves of emotion.

“How’s the cabin been so far?”

The sudden change in topic scratches unpleasantly but he lets it go.

“Would be more fun if you were here.” He confesses. “What are you up to?”

“Laying in bed, watching Love Island.”

“What are you wearing?”

“Seriously?” You scoff.

“What?”

“You’re so lame, Kyeom.”

“I’m curious about what you do when you’re alone.” He tries to sound innocent. “You’re alone, right?”

“Yeah, Ava left for the weekend.”

“So what are you doing this weekend?”

He’s fishing for the real reason you told him you couldn't come with him to the cabin. You’d been purposefully vague the few times Dokyeom probed since last Thursday, claiming any excuse under the sun: a friend coming to visit, getting ahead on assignments, pulling a few extra shifts at the library. Anything to avoid flat out rejection.

“You know, this and that. What about you guys? Any big plans?”

“Some of the guys mentioned a hike tomorrow. And Beer-lympics Sunday.”

“God, you’re such a frat bro.”

“I can do better.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah. What are you wearing?” He tries again.

He hears you huff, “Pajamas.”

“Sexy.”

“I actually think this is your shirt.”

“Oh? Send me a pic.”

“What do I get if I do?”

“What do you want?”

“Are you hard?”

“I can be.”

“I’ll send you a picture if you send me one too.”

“Fuck, okay.” He agrees, tapping open his camera app and trying out a few angles, working himself up in the process.

Dokyeom settles for cupping the bulge over his pants, outline of his cock pronounced as he lightly squeezes. He’s highly aware of your obsession with his hands, so he tries to flex his arm forcing the web of veins to rise as the muscles clench.

“I’m waiting.” You goad on the other end of the phone, knocking him out of his concentration.

The five photos he’s snapped all look about the same. Settling on the least blurry one, he quickly opens your messages and sends it before changing his mind.

A sharp inhale announces its arrival on your phone.

“Your turn.”

He can hear the rustle of clothes and blankets through the speaker, and a whispered curse following a dull thud. Dokyeom can’t help the chuckle that escapes as he pictures whatever caused it.

The photo you send back takes him a second to decipher. You're definitely wearing his shirt, the bottom hem bunched across your breasts, the swells of flesh peaking out near the top of the picture; perfectly omitting your face. Tracing down your bare stomach, your hips are wrapped in powdery blue cotton panties. And if that wasn’t enough, one hand is stuffed underneath, pulling the elastic taunt across the crease in your hip as it stretches to accommodate your fingers.

Holy shit.

“You like it?”

“You're evil.” Head rolling back, Dokyeom groans as he takes it all in. “You want me dead.”

You giggle at his tone.

“Fuck,” he mutters, continuing to study your figure. “You’re so hot.”

“Kyeomie,” you whine, obviously embarrassed under his attention.

“Are you touching yourself?”

“Yeah,” you mewl.

“Dirty girl.”

“Yeah? And what are you gonna do about it?”

The back and forth of your relationship is the funnest part, in Dokyeom’s opinion. You like when he puts you in your place as much as he enjoys you putting him in his. It helps that even when he assumes the more dominant role, you still praise him as if he’s the best thing since sliced bread. It scratches that submissive part of his brain that always wants needs to be good. Especially for you.

“I can think of a few things.”

“Oh? Like what?”

Phone sex is unfamiliar territory. He isn’t sure how much is too much and the awkward parting last week still stains his brain. But you just sent him a photo with your hands down your underwear so Dokyeom tries to go with the flow.

“Could make you cry on my cock.” He flushes when you remain silent for a second too long . “Sorry, that felt awkward.”

“No!” You object, voice crackling through the speaker at the sharp increase in volume. “It, ugh, that’s hot.”

“What? Crying from my dick?”

“You don’t think so?”

Dokyeom’s cock twitches, as if to signal its eager agreement.

“I think anything involving you near my penis is hot so I’m not really a good judge.”

“Well, just imagine it. Remember that time we fucked at Wonwoo and Mingyu’s house party?”

“Not appreciating you saying other dudes’ names while my dick is in my hand but yeah.”

You snicker at his reprimand. “Anyway. Remember how I wanted you to fuck my mouth?”

Dokyeom takes a sharp inhale as the memory rushes forward. You on your knees, eyes glossy and lips bruised, begging him to stretch your throat. The second the request reached his ears Dokyeom nearly came on your sweater covered chest, but he’d ignored your request, hauling your ass up onto the counter in favor of stuffing your cunt. You hadn’t complained.

“But you wouldn’t because you didn’t wanna mess up my makeup?”

“You looked pretty… didn’t wanna ruin it.”

“Yeah but I wanted you to.”

Another squeeze of his cock as he slips his hand under his boxers, “Yeah?”

“You’re really hot when you tell me what to do.”

“Fuck.” He groans, vocabulary limited by the husky timbre of your voice. “Are you touching yourself?”

“Mhhmm, doesn't feel as good as when you do it though.”

A pathetic thrust through his fist at the praise. “I know but I’ll make it up to you next time. Promise.”

“How?”

“Might tie you up. Fuck you till your screamming.” Dokyeom doesn’t know who he’s become but you seem to like it.

“Oh?”

Your reply is all breath, the same way you sign when he gives you his fingers after a long study session. The beads of pre-cum on his tip increase as he works his cock, almost able to fill the way you’d coat his fingers if he was there to give them to you.

“You like that? Want me to use your tight little pussy? Fill it up?”

“Want you to come inside me again, Minnie. So hot.”

“I know, pretty girl. So desperate for it aren’t you?”

“Yeah.” you squeak, “Are you close?”

“Send me another picture.”

Only a few seconds pass, filled with muffled groans on his end and the clack of your nails on yours. Dokyeom rushes to open the new attachment you’ve blessed him with, heart clenching when his stomach caves around a moan.

The photo is blurry from your haste but he doesn’t care. You're drenched. The crotch of your panties tinged darker as you pull them aside, flashing the way your entrance stretches around three of your fingers. Your clit just barely visible, puffy and swollen from neglect.

“Fuck, baby.”

“Minnie—” Your voice sounds far away, and he realizes you've put yourself on speaker so you can use both hands.

“Can you do something for me?” he grounds, squeezing the base of his cock to stop his impending end.

“Anything.”

Another deep breath before he lays himself bare, “Drive up here tomorrow.”

“What?” You ask, the springs of your mattress squeaking as you sit up, clearly confused by the switch in pace.

“I wanna see you.”

“I—”

“Promise I’ll make it worth your while.” Dokyeom scrambles.

Another pause before a timid, “How?”

“Whatever you want.”

“Dangerous words.”

“Pretty sure I’ll enjoy it just as much as you.”

“I don’t know…”

“If you don’t want to, it's fine but,” he sighs, “if you can I want you to come. And not just because of sex.”

“Then why?”

“Because I like—” He cuts himself off hastily. “Because I like spending time with you.”

As seconds tick by without response, Dokyeom is sure you're going to call his bluff. Or worse, laugh in his face. He’s sweating, heart beating irregularly as he waits for your reply.

“Really?” Shyness creeps into your voice.

Dokyeom nods before realizing you can’t see him. “Yeah.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I’ll come.”

“Really?” Dokyeom asks, eyes wide and jaw slack. No way it's this easy.

“Really,” he can hear you smile. “But only because you said you’d give me whatever I want.”

“You’re gonna make me regret that aren’t you?”

“Absolutely.” You tease, enunciating each syllable as his heart beats in time. “But Kyeomie…”

“Yeah?”

“I’m still wet.”

“Can’t have that.” He tsks.

“Please,”

“Be a good girl and play with your clit.” Dokyeom instructs, slipping right back in.

A hitch in your breath precludes a satisfied “hmmm”. He wishes he could taste both on his tongue.

“Touch yourself too.” You plea.

Dokyeom’s wound so tight a gust of wind would have his load all over his stomach. He tells you as much.

“Shiiit” You curse, catching up to him. “Close.”

“Yeah? Think you deserve it?”

If he was there, Dokyeom knows he’d see the frustrated kick of your legs and feel the daggers shooting from your eyes.

“You ignored me all last week, I don’t know if I should let you.”

“Dokyeom, please!”

“But since I get to see you tomorrow.” he tuts, covering up the catch of his breath as you plea again. “Let me hear it.”

The call devolves into choked curses and groans. He keeps the screen close to his face as he focuses back on the picture you sent, painting his fist with streaks of white as you beg him to cum, choke on how much you want to taste. Your stuttered “ah”s floating right into his ears as you twist and shake in your bed hours away.

When Dokyeom can feel himself returning to his body, he soaks in the lull of you catching your breath.

“You good?”

“Yeah.” You sigh dreamily.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Send me the address.”

“Oh and Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m happy you’re coming…”

“Goodnight,” you chuckle at the double entendre.

“Night.”

Even with the satisfaction of an orgasm coursing through his veins, the fizzing bubbles of happiness in his chest have nothing to do with the cum cooling in his underwear.

The drive to the cabin is two hours and thirty seven nerve wrecking minutes. Dokyeom has been up since six, texting you the address, asking you to let him know when you left, keep him updated on any pit stops you needed to make. Not to rush up the mountain and drive safely.

The digital clock on your dash reads just past noon as you slowly creep up a narrow gravel road, praying another car doesn’t swoop around the bend. Of course a pack of frat boys would choose some creepy woods to set up camp for a long weekend.

You dial Dokyeom’s number just to be safe. Barely a full ring passes before he picks it up.

“Hey!”

“Hey… I think I’m pulling up to the right place?” You scan for any sign of a driveway on either side of the road without any luck.

“Oh shit, I’ll come outside. Jun got us lost yesterday when he drove up so it’s tricky.”

Taking a left as you finally spot the red mailbox with a beaver carved into the dark wooden post at the end of the lengthy driveway, a two story cabin comes into view between the trees. Dokyeom jogs from the porch to meet you at the edge of the yard. Rolling down your window as he makes his way over, you greet him.

“Hey,”

“Hey,” he smiles, bright enough to blind a village.

“Um, where should I park?”

“Just pull up behind anyone, it doesn't matter.”

“Alright.”

Dokyeom walks next to you as you pull in behind a white sedan. Once in park, you pop the trunk before slipping out the door. He already has your bag tossed over his shoulder, tangling your fingers with his as he pulls you towards the house.

“Some of the guys went on a hike earlier so I’ve been helping Seungkwan and Mingyu clean up.”

“Oh, you didn’t need to wait for me.”

“I wanted to.”

Before you can think too much on that statement, Seungkwan interrupts by tackling you in a hug.

“Oh thank god you’re here.”

“Hi to you too.” You say, carrying his weight as he goes boneless.

“Hi,” he responds with a squeeze, before turning to Dokyeom with a blunt, “Goodbye.”

Seungkwan pulls you inside the front door, beelining for the sliding glass doors that lead to the back porch.

“Hey!”

Without slowing, Seungkwan fends him off. “She was my friend first!”

“Yeah well,” Dokyeom flounders like a washed up fish.

“You dazzle with words. Now go away.” Seungkwan sniffs.

Sending an apologetic smile over your shoulder, you allow Seungkwan to usher you along. You spot another person in the kitchen, face shadowed by the hood of his sweater. He doesn’t look up when you and Seungkwan shuffle pass.

“Ignore Mingyu, his girlfriend broke up with him yesterday.”

“That sucks.”

“Yeah, anyway.” Seungkwan plops onto one of the chairs circled around the patio table. “Speaking of girlfriends—”

“Did you finally get one?”

“Being mean is bad for your health.” He deadpans. “As I was saying, did Dokyeom ask you to be his?”

“His what?”

“His girlfriend.”

Your ears ring at the nonchalance in Seungkwan’s tone.

“Why would he ask me to be his girlfriend?”

“Why else would you get up at the ass crack of dawn to come to this dump?”

“He said he wanted me to come.” You answer, turning your head to observe the lake beyond the thin tree line.

“After you told him no? Wow, didn’t realize he was that good in bed.”

Your hands itch to circle his neck and shake but Seungkwan is saved by the very man in question.

“Hate to interrupt but I thought you might want some coffee?”

You turn around, smiling as Dokyeom leans out of the sliding glass door, “Yeah, that sounds great.”

“We aren’t done talking!” Seungkwan calls as you reach the door.

“I am!”

Mingyu apparently retreated to his room after you stepped outside, nowhere to be found in the kitchen or living room beyond the counter.

The isolation makes you nervous which is strange because it’s just Dokyeom. But his words last night over the phone, coupled with Seungkwan’s on the porch twist your guts uncomfortably.

It’s too late to bail. You can’t claim illness since Dokyeom will fawn over you like some mother hen. Besides, you don’t actually want to leave. You just can’t stand the nagging voice in the back of your head insisting this isn’t what friends do. Even if said friends are having sex.

“Wanna show me your room?”

“Sure!” Dokyeom is still cheery, eagerly leading you upstairs and down a maze of hallways.

The outside of the cabin, while daunting, failed to betray how big it actually is as you pass door after door on your journey.

The room Dokyeom is sharing with Soonyoung is cozy. Two full sized beds with little room for anything else and an en suite the size of a closet. But at least you won’t have to battle it out with anyone else for a bathroom during the next three days.

Dokyeom was lucky enough to claim the bed closests to the bay windows, framing a pleasant view of the backyard, dock, and sprawling lake. When you step closer, you can spot Seungkwan’s mop of hair as he leans on the edge of the railing that borders the porch; hand animated as the other holds his phone near his mouth.

Turning back to the bed, you spot your bag on the floor at the foot of it. The room is ten degrees hotter when you realize Dokyeom was lying right there as he talked you through an orgasm barely twelve hours ago. You awkwardly shuffle on your feet as you try to find something to say.

Dokyeom seems unperturbed, flopping onto the mattress, arms thrown wide in invitation. A shy grin twists your lips. Hair a mess, and cheeks flushed, Dokyeom looks cute. He’s always cute but navy crew neck and gray sweats transforms him into a cozy dream. The mattress dips under your knee as you crawl to lay next to him.

Settling your head over his heart, arms twining around one another, you feel your own give a peculiar squeeze. It’s truly no different than all the other times you’ve cuddled, albeit those were post-coitous; except it is. Dokyeom told you he wanted you here, that he likes spending time with you, and now he’s squeezing the life out of you as he snags one of your legs to wrap around his waist.

When sleep tickles your nose, pleasantly warm and inviting, you ignore how Dokyeom isn’t your boyfriend. What you have right now is perfect enough.

—

The sweet hum of Dokyeom’s voice lulls you awake, a simple melody you vaguely recognize from his playlist he insists on blasting during your hangouts. Gray light from outside casts the room sullenly dark. Storm clouds, swollen to a near black, eclipse the late afternoon sun. Dokyeom’s neck is the perfect place to escape the unavoidable sounds of the cabin filled with life, eyes firmly shut as you inhale the smell of laundry detergent and pine.

One of your hands managed to twist under his sweater in your sleep, fisting his thin T-shirt as you attempt to beckon sleep out of hiding and back towards you. A pathetic whine escapes when Dokyeom jostles you in an attempt to find a more comfortable position, only silenced by his lips against your forehead and his stroking your elbow.

“Shhhh,” he coos. “Go back to sleep.”

“What time is it?”

“Like five.”

Lifting back from his neck, you pout. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

A gentle peck to your lips in response leaves you speechless, a soft quirk to his lips as you gape. Collapsing back into his chest you’re left to bask in each other's presence as you take to silently drawing shapes on his stomach, smiling as he giggles from ticklishness. His thumb traces the curves of your hip, digging to the soft flesh of your waist.

A banging on the door makes you both jump out of your skin before Seungkwan’s voice cuts the air. “Come on love birds, dinners ready!”

“If we don’t get up, do you think he’ll go away?” Dokyeom whispers into your hair.

“No.”

On queue the door flies open, smacking against the wall and rebounding into Seungkwan’s face.

“I said it's time for dinner. Now get your asses up!”

“Go away, Boo!” You demand, chucking a pillow in his direction.

“What happened to respecting your elders?” Dokyeom asks, eyes sharp as he tries to kill the younger man with his eyes.

“When my elder does something respectable, I’ll consider it.” Seungkwan claps. “Now chop chop!”

The dinner Seungkwan so adamantly demanded your presence at is a huge pot of spaghetti and some loaves of garlic bread. Nothing overly complex but the bustling atmosphere downstairs is nice, comfortable.

Dokyeom introduces you to some of the fraternity members you haven’t met, as well as their dates. Squished between him and Seungkwan at the dining table, you barely engage in conversation. Not that you need to. They both fill the space with their own joking easily enough.

Instead, your mind focuses on the warmth of Dokyeom’s shoulder brushing yours, and how he rests his arm on the back of your chair once he finishes his plate.

When the mess is cleared away, a few people scurrying off to who knows where, Soonyoung insists on a game of Beerio Kart as dessert. Excited to have a new person to torment, he drags you to the couch before you can object. In a blink, you find yourself wedged between the armrest and Dokyeom as he explains the game.

“The rules are simple my friends! No drinking and driving and you have to finish your drunk before the race ends. If you fail to do so you’ll be publicly shamed.” Soonyoung claps his hands together, the maniacal glint in his eyes a little too intense for such a silly game.

“And for additional chaos,” Seungkwan adds. “I’ve changed it to blue shells only.”

“Now may the best driver win!”

“Alright, the first round is Jun, Marci, Sam, and me.”

“This is gonna be a bloodbath.” Someone calls from the other couch.

And it is. Jun uses height to hold Seungkwan’s drink out of the younger man’s reach, resulting in Seungkwan launching himself from the couch in a flying kick. They’re both so occupied with one another they don’t notice the race is long finished and neither of their characters moved past the starting line.

A chorus of boos rises as the race times out, designating them as 11th and 12th place.

“Alright, next is DK, Y/N, Wonwoo, and myself.”

“Can I forfeit?”

Dokyeom turns to you. “You wanna quit already?”

“Considering my opponents, yes.”

“New rule: no quitting allowed.” Soonyoung interjects.

“You can’t make that a rule!”

“I just did!”

You respond with a thumbs down, much more effective than the middle finger you want to throw his way.

“It’s okay if you’re scared, Y/N.” Wonwoo taunts from across the room.

“I’m not scared!”

“That’s exactly what someone who is scared would say!” Soonyoung chimes in.

Dokyeom just shrugs his shoulders when you look at him for assistance. Figures. He’s part of the reason you don’t want to play. He and his roommate rile each other up too much under normal circumstances, let alone when things get competitive and alcohol is involved.

“Fine, let's play!”

Soonyoung divvies out another round of lukewarm beer cans you’re required to drink as Wonwoo picks the track. N64 Rainbow Road because apparently he’s an asshole. The way he reclines back in his seat confirms it.

To avoid the inevitable mess Dokyeom will make in his haste to chug before the race begins, you stand, shuffling closer to the safe zone at the edge of the coffee table. He tugs at the back of your shirt for a second, prompting you to shake your head.

Dokyeom pouts but stays silent.

“Alright lady and gentlemen! Start. Your. Engines!”

Cracking open your can the second the countdown begins on screen, you gag at the taste of cheap beer as everyone whoops around you. You manage half the can before you have to stop under the threat of it coming back up. Dokyeom and Soonyoung are still drinking, the later shuffling in place restlessly. Wonwoo hasn’t even opened his beer, focusing on getting as far ahead as he can.

Hopefully Seungkwan’s meddling takes care of him.

The race track is chaos as you press your character forward, occasionally blown off course by a blue shell moving to knock out whoever is in first. Half way through the course, you chance a glance at the other corners of the TV. Soonyoung and Dokyeom have finally started lap one, only for Soonyoung to fly over the edge at the first turn and wait to be rescued. Wonwoo is caught in the mess at the front of the pack, only able to maintain first for a fraction of a second before being sniped by a shell.

Once you round the third lap, you take your chance. Stopping in a corner of the track to down the rest of your drink, hoping everyone is too engrossed in the events on screen to see you start moving despite still swallowing a mouth full of beer.

This is when you see Wonwoo make his mistake. He pauses right before the finish line, cracking his can open and nearly choking on the large gulps in his haste. You're gaining quickly, barely a quarter of the last lap remains between your carts. When he finally finishes the can and picks up the controller, you unleash the blue shell you’d been saving. Rosalina goes flying as you sail by, Yoshi claiming fifth place.

“Suck it!” You scream, jumping up and down in victory; joined by Seungkwan who hollers with you as if he won too.

Wonwoo is shell-shocked, literally. He finishes seventh overall, pulling behind another computer character. Soonyoung is on the floor as he and Dokyeom fight for second to last place. The shame goes to Soonyoung as the race times out once again.

When you turn back to the couch you're met with another blinding smile as you drop into his lap.

“Looooooserrrr,” you taunt as you flick his nose gently.

“Yeah whatever.”

“It’s okay, maybe I can teach you sometime.”

He laughs, squeezing you into his chest. “God, you’re annoying.”

“It’s so lonely at the top.” You furrow your brow in mock sorrow.

Another race ensues, more chaos and screaming echoing through the living room. The heat of Dokyeom’s chest sinks through the back of your hoodie, strong plains of muscle shaking as he laughs with the group. When Seungkwan and Soonyoung face each other in a rematch you tempt Dokyeom upstairs, kissing behind his ear before leaning back and giving him the “look.”

The “I-want-your-dick-in-my-mouth” look.

Of which he very is familiar.

Dokyeom lurches forward, eager to appease, forgetting you're still in his lap until your weight knocks him back down. Shaking your head you stand and pull him up behind you, moving towards the stairs uninterrupted as Seungkwan and Soonyoung threaten each other's life and limb behind you.

Tacky wood shiplap digs into your spine uncomfortable as Dokyeom crowds you against the wall. His lips ghost along your jaw, hands on either side of your head to prevent him from crushing you. You don’t have the same concern, pulling him closer with the fabric of his sweater. The door to his room is a few feet to your left but the idea of separating for even a second to make it inside is pure agony.

“What does the winner want for her prize?” he whispers, teeth grazing your earlobe.

“Depends.” You sigh, grinding against the bulge of his thigh.

“On?”

“If my prize is separate from what I get for driving up here.”

Dokyeom nips your chin, dodging your attempt to connect your mouths.

“Depends on what you want.”

“I want you to fuck me.”

“I’m gonna do that anyway.”

“I wasn’t done yet.”

He stays silent, teeth bruising the sliver of shoulder peeking out under your collar.

“I want you to fuck me,” cut of with a hiss at his vigor, “and I want to film it.”

Backing out of your neck, Dokyeom blinks at you, mouth wide.

Peeking at him through your eyelashes, you wait for Dokyeom’s brain to restart. His mouth opens and closes, but nothing comes out. Not a rejection or an agreement. Just surprise.

A heaviness curls in your gut. You thought he’d like the idea, especially from his reaction to the pictures you sent last night. And the videos he’s sent over the months you’ve been hooking up. Videos of him jacking off, cumming on his own stomach, your name on his lips. But maybe you assumed too much.

“Ifyoudon’twanttowedon—”

But a scream interrupts your rant as he lifts you by your thighs, ankles locking around the top of his butt and arms tangling around his neck like a koala. You hold on for dear life as he carries you down the hallway.

Palming your ass harshly with one hand, the other scrambles to open the door as he licks up your neck. The door rattles on its hinges as he kicks it shut but the blood rushing through your ears muffles it.

“Yes, yes. Holy shit, yes.” He’s whining into your ear, hips rutting into your core as he lands unceremoniously on the bed, crushing you underneath him.

You’re shocked for a second, woefully unprepared for his enthusiasm. But another harsh rush against you, coupled with his hands pawing up your shirt to palm your chest makes you bold.

Two things you know to be true about Dokyeom:

First, he has a ragging praise kink. If you tell him he’s a good boy, he can come almost untouched.

Second, he loves the sight of his cum streaking across your body.

He was right to say he’ll enjoy this as much as you will.

“Yeah? Wanna come on my face?”

Another pathetic whine against your neck as he keeps curling his clothed cock against you. All of his weight settles between your hips as drives you to madness.

“Then go lock the door.”

#svthub #lee seokmin #lee seokmin x reader #svt x reader #seventeen fanfic #svt #dokyeom #seokmin x reader #seokmin smut #dokyeom x reader #dokyeom smut #🫡 highvern

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honkytonk-hangman · 2 years

Text

What You Want

Summary: Rooster is aware that despite working together for a little over six months now, he doesn't really know you all that well. One late night walk to your car later, he thinks he'd like that to change.

Notes: just a little drabble for an idea i've been having for a while!!! let me know if you'd be interested in more! <3

Masterlist

“Wait! Hold the door!” a voice calls out, making Rooster jump, but he still manages to throw his arm out just in time, catching the elevator doors before they close. You come jogging into sight then, panting a little, your duffle bag hanging precariously from your shoulder as you hurry to reach him.

You thank him as you step inside, but do a small double-take when you realise that you recognise him. Rooster waves off your thanks, and shifts to one side so that he isn’t taking up so much space.

“I didn’t see you in there,” he says, jerking his thumb in the direction of the on-base gym. Granted, he knows the place was pretty damn big, and that there was a section reserved for women if they felt more comfortable there, but he’d really thought he’d be all alone at this time of night.

You look at him blankly for a second, before your eyes seem to travel over his attire, and realisation registers on your face.

“Oh! Ha, I didn’t see you either…” you tell him, just as the elevator at last closes its doors and begins its descent. “I don’t usually come so late,” you add after a moment, having hiked your bag higher on your shoulder. Rooster nods, but looks away from you as you seem to start nervously adjusting your workout shorts, too, pulling them lower from where they’ve clearly ridden up slightly.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he hears himself ask, keeping his eyes on the elevator panel ahead of him as it slowly counts down the floors. You’re quiet for a few seconds before humming softly and he can’t help but look back over at you at the almost sad ring in your voice.

“Something like that,” you reply with a small shrug, looking at your shoes.

“Everything alright?” he prods a little, sure now that you sounded down, but immediately feeling a little out of place for asking.

Sure, you’d been working together now for almost six months, and sure he’d met you once or twice before that, but if he’s honest, Rooster didn’t really know you that well outside of what he knows you can do in the sky. Up in the air he wouldn’t hesitate to trust you with his life, but on the ground, he wouldn’t even know what beer you drank at the hard Deck.

If you drank beer, at all, for that matter.

You shift uncomfortably for a moment, eyes dancing between his face and the floor before you give another little shrug and look away from him entirely, staring at metal doors ahead of you.

“I uh, told my boyfriend about being stationed here permanently now,” you begin, pausing to bite at your lip like you weren’t sure whether or not to keep going. There had been some back and forth in recent months over where Dagger squad would be stationed, but at last a few days ago the decision had been made to keep the squad on North Island.

“He broke up with me,” you finish, swallowing nervously, but shooting him a tight smile that Rooster does his best to return.

“I’m sorry…” he says, unsure if he should say more, or if it would even be welcomed. He hadn’t even known until just now that you actually had a boyfriend, but he finds that he likes that you’re choosing to confide in him. You shrug for a third time and shake your head.

“I don’t know. Things weren’t awful or anything, but they weren’t exactly great, either…” you chew on your lip again and scrunch up your nose briefly. “He never really liked me being away much.”

Rooster snorts at that.

“S’kinda part of the job description,” he says, receiving a wry smile from you.

“I know.”

Quiet pervades for a while until the elevator comes to a stop at last, and Rooster gestures for you to go ahead of him. You step out, but pause, waiting for him to join you again before you begin walking, and Rooster finds he likes that as well.

“Still, I’m sorry,” he offers sincerely, looking over at you as you let out a soft sigh. He’s almost embarrassed when you turn back to find him already looking at you, but you only smile sweetly.

“Thanks.” You say, beginning to pull a jangling set of keys out of your duffle bag. Rooster realises then that you must have driven here, and weren’t currently living on base, as he’d just assumed you were.

“Where are you parked?” he asks, gesturing to your keys when you look up at him.

“Oh, not too far, just over near the Services building,” you tell him, causing his brows to knit together. It wasn’t exactly far, but it wasn’t really near, either.

“I’ll walk you.” he says, making the decision out loud. You look back at him in what looks like surprise, already starting to shake your head.

“Oh, you don’t have to–”

“–I’d feel a lot better if I did,” he cuts you off, but speaks truthfully, and he’s glad when you don’t argue further, simply nodding as he now starts following your lead.

You both remain in comfortable quiet while you walk, and Rooster consciously takes note of how dark this particular path through the base really was, feeling glad that you’d let him walk you back, but at the same time unable to stop from overthinking his insistence on the matter.

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” he blurts all of a sudden, causing you to blink up at him blankly for a moment. “I didn’t really give you much of a choice about walking with you,” he explains, not unaware of why a woman might actually feel safer going alone than with a man she barely knew. You jerk then, as realisation floods your features, but let out a chuckle as you shake your head at him.

“No, no, it’s really okay!” you assure him. Rooster lets out a relieved breath. “I appreciate not having to walk by myself. I know I’m far safer on base than if I wasn’t, but you know…” you tell him, trailing off. “I’m sorry if you didn’t actually want to, but that’s your fault,” you add, chortling playfully. Rooster laughs too, your words catching him slightly off-guard, your joke and general cheek entirely unexpected to him.

“It’s a good thing I did want to, in that case,” he says, laughter still in his voice. You look up at him sweetly, and he notices for the first time how your eyes crinkle slightly in the corners when you smile.

“I don’t get why people– Mostly men– offer things like that if they don’t actually want to do them… Why offer to pay for dinner if you’re really actually wanting me to insist otherwise, you know?” you roll your eyes and wave a hand, your voice light but he can sense the real underlying annoyance.

“I didn’t realise that was a thing men actually did…” he admits curiously, and watches as you give an even heavier roll of your eyes.

“Well, good. That means you’ve never done it,” you say, shooting him a wry grin. “My boyfriend… ex-boyfriend… He used to do it a lot at the start of our relationship. He’d always end up telling me later how he hadn’t expected me to accept whatever it was. I guess he learnt to stop after a while.”

Rooster stares down at you slack jawed and momentarily speechless, taken completely aback that your ex would admit to such a thing, but that he’d not want to do things sincerely for you in the first place.

“... And that wasn’t a red flag?” he finds his voice enough to ask you, not bothering to hide the disapproval in his voice. You look away, but hum.

“I guess it should have been,” you say softly, pursing your lips as you seem to think for a moment.

“When I was younger I found it really hard to accept people doing things for me. If a man offered to pay for dinner, I’d feel so guilty that I’d insist he didn’t, and we’d end up splitting the bill instead. I’d go home feeling so disappointed, even though it was my fault…” you tell him, shaking your head at your own past actions. “A couple years ago, I started trying to be more honest with myself about what I wanted when it came to dating, and men… not just what I was willing to accept.”

Rooster nods as you speak, finding himself genuinely interested in your outlook on these things, wanting to hear more about them. You take his silent agreement as permission to go on.

“If flowers, or paying for dinner, or whatever, if it was something that I valued, made me feel valued, I shouldn't feel guilty about that,” you continue, sparing an almost nervous glance up at him, but Rooster is still nodding, agreeing with you completely.

“Good,” he tells you firmly. “And like you said; if they didn’t really want to, that’s their problem,” he states matter-of-factly, feeling an undue sense of pride when you laugh.

“Exactly!” you giggle a little more before eventually you both sober.

You were at the Services building now, the car park laid out in front of you, only a handful of vehicles still scattered around the lot.

“I guess that’s something I’m going to have to put into practise again at some point…” you think aloud, and Rooster only realises that he’s started to frown slightly when you look back at him.

“I guess it is…” he replies, unsure of why he suddenly feels so bothered at the thought of you dating someone like your ex again.

“Don’t ever accept anything less than what you want,” he feels the need to stress himself. “If he’s worth your time, he won’t accept giving you anything else.”

You smile at him softly, almost looking shy for a moment, before you finally come to a stop by your car. Rooster watches quietly as you toss your bag on the backseat.

“Thank you for walking me,” you say once you’ve turned back to him.

“Thank you for letting me,” he replies, stepping closer when you open your door to climb in, closing it for you once he can see that you’ve settled inside. You give him another soft smile as you roll your window down to say goodbye.

“See you on Monday, Rooster.”

“Drive safe.”

#rooster bradshaw x you #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x oc #top gun fanfiction #top gun fanfic

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bumblesimagines · 6 months

Text

Midnight Beach

Part 21/END

Request: Yes or No

~~~

"You're not Indiana fucking Jones, (Y/N)."

"What is with you and Indiana Jones?"

"Why are you going to South America? Like- Jesus, okay, what if El Dorado is real? What are you going to do about the amount of people who are going to come running for a taste of gold? The people who'll come after you for even having a piece of the real deal? What about this Singh guy? He's dangerous, you said so yourself!" The redhead sputtered, waving her arms around animatedly as he packed some things into his backpack. A simple change of clothes, underwear, deodorant, a hydro flask, his phone charger. He'd seen what Liv packed before her trips out to visit her aunt and go hiking but the experience of trekking through a jungle? Kildare wasn't exactly known for its jungles.

"At least we'll have an adult. Better than last time when it was just us on an island." He replied and swept his gaze over his room, searching for anything else he'd need. It almost felt like some sort of fever dream; clearing the air with Sarah and John B, hanging out with the Pogues on the Cut, preparing to go to a whole other continent. Christ, he'd only ever left Kildare a handful of times. Poguelandia had been a way to survive and Barbados an unavoidable accident. Now there he was, packing up to visit South America in search of someone who probably didn't even care for his existence. Completely and utterly avoidable.

"The adult is the one in trouble!" Liv nearly shrieked at him and slumped back on his bed. "You've finally lost it, (Y/N). You're flying out to South America on a presumed dead man's plane to save a deadbeat from some rich dude. Do you realize how crazy that sounds? How stupid? This is dumb. This is like... Topper Thornton level of stupidity. I hope you know that."

"I know how it sounds, Liv, but- I.." He sighed and finally turned to face the redhead. He pressed his leg against the edge of the bed and reached out to delicately comb his fingers through her vibrant locks. She puffed out her cheeks, a sign she'd be giving in soon, and stubbornly jerked her head in the other direction. "The Pogues have always been about adventures. This will be like... a farewell thing. We wrap this whole Royal Merchant and El Dorado thing up and I leave the Pogues to keep on treasure hunting or whatever it is they'll do after Big John's back home. John B's the biggest idiot I know. But even he deserves to have his father with him."

"And what about your parents?"

"I told them that the Pogues and I were going on a little trip to process what happened to us. It's not my fault they didn't ask where we're going." A grin slipped when Liv snorted and rolled her eyes. The redhead took a deep breath and pushed herself up, brushing aside strands of hair and reaching forward to wrap her arms around him. (Y/N) cradled her head against his stomach and kissed the top of her head.

"I'll stay safe, Liv. I promise."

"You better. I don't feel like going to South America to rescue your ass."

✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽

Parking the jeep alongside Pope's dirt bike and getting out, (Y/N) nearly stumbled back against his jeep when JJ practically leaped into his arms followed by Pope and Cleo. (Y/N) laughed and did his best to embrace them in return, feeling JJ's hand ruffle the top of his head playfully. "You're late, man! Thought you chickened out on us."

"Not yet." He chuckled, nearly missing the wince from Sarah. He tried not to think about how the others would react to the news, especially after everything they'd been through. Rafe, Coastal Venture, Poguelandia, Barbados, and now... South America. He'd joined their little crew of misfits to help out his ex-girlfriend and now there he stood, waiting to hop on a plane to help her new on-and-off boyfriend. Fate truly had a twisted sense of humor.

"Hey, uh, where's Kie?" Pope asked and (Y/N) shifted to look over at the entrance of the tarmac. No sign of an Uber or Lyft or even one of the Carrera's cars. He frowned, thinking of her parents and how desperate they were to keep Kiara home and safe after their return. They'd always been so protective of her.

"It's gotta be her parents, dude. They've been up her ass." Sarah sighed, brushing her hair out of her face.

"They must've said she couldn't come." Pope sucked his teeth. "We're going to have to do this without her, then."

"No," JJ shook his head, adjusting the backpack strap digging into his shoulder and turning toward John B with his hand outstretched. John B immediately began shaking his head. "Gimmie the keys, man. Her parents already hate me, alright? Just.. give me an hour. It'll be like a black ops mission, in and out. Surgical removal type shit, alright? Plus... I kind of owe her."

"Oh?" John B's head snapped up and a twinkle appeared in his eyes, his fist digging around in his pocket to pull out the keys to the Twinkie. "You owe her, huh? Alright, you totally owe her. I appreciate the honesty."

"Give me an hour, alright, ya'll?" JJ snatched the keys out of his hand and sprinted toward the Twinkie, tossing the backpack through the open window before leaping in afterward, his body awkwardly landing halfway in while John B and Pope groaned. (Y/N) snorted, watching him wiggle his whole body through the window and climb into the driver's seat.

"Feather the throttle!" John B shouted after him and the Twinkie's wheels squealed loudly against the road. They watched him drive off toward the entrance to save his... 'friend.' His very good 'friend.' Totally not his crush or anything like that.

A hand came to rest on his shoulder and he looked back to catch Sarah's eye. She smiled at him, tired and nervous, and her fingers dug lightly into his shoulder. Sarah looked back toward the road where the Twinkie disappeared behind some trees and swallowed, her teeth biting down on her bottom lip. "Do you think he'll convince them to let her go?"

"Probably not." (Y/N) murmured. "I can't say I blame them either. I wouldn't want my daughter hanging out with people she keeps going missing with."

"I never really thought about it like that." Sarah dropped her hand and wrapped her arms around herself, the gentle breeze tousling around some of her hair. There was a heavy silence between them and despite the many discussions they had, it held an air of words yet to be spoken. Their history could never be unwritten, only forgotten over time as they entered adulthood. They'd eventually find their place in the world, their proper place, and begin a life without the other. It seemed fair to (Y/N). It was life. He'd come to accept it. Sarah Cameron had taken up much of his world in recent times, but like everything else, she'd eventually become a faint memory of his life in Figure Eight. A girl he loved and lost. An old friend. Someone he recalled both fondly and bitterly.

"I'll keep in touch, by the way." A lie or the truth? He couldn't quite tell. Did he want to stay in communication with them, with her? It'd be a risk. They'd eventually stumble into a new adventure, something new to discover and unveil that'd prompt them to reach out, whether to experience it with him or ask him for something.

"You could attend Chapel Hill, you know." She said softly. "It's close to home, close to us but not on the island."

"That's not happening, Sarah. I want to get away from here, from Figure Eight and Kildare. I've been here long enough. I don't want to regret not doing what I always wanted. I don't want to be like some of the miserable men here who only get genuine happiness when they go on business trips away from their families. The women here either love their lives or drown themselves in wine while the men inhale coke like its air and are barely ever home. It's a nightmare living here, Sarah. You see it, I see it. The Carrera's are one of the few that seem happy together and they had to prove themselves to even be accepted as Kooks. It's... hell."

"Not everything's so bad. There was... us and- and Topper and-"

"Things that are over, Sarah. Topper definitely won't be talking to us for a while and you and I... " (Y/N) inhaled deeply through his nose and released it in a heavy sigh. "You and I are done. For now or for good, I don't really know. If things change in the future... if we change in the future... maybe we'll find each other again. But I'm done with bullshit love triangles and John B."

"I know. I just-"

"Eight hours?! JJ, don't have eight hours! We've got a jet here. We're all waiting!" The two of them turned at the sound of John B's voice, spotting him speaking into the phone with a look of frustration. He blinked and shook his head rapidly, stammering and stumbling over his words before pulling the phone away from his ear and sighing.

"What's going on?" Pope asked as he and Cleo sat down on the steps leading up to the plane. John B rubbed the area between his brows and pinched the bridge of his nose, tucking his phone into his back pocket.

"Kiara got sent to a wilderness camp," He told them. "So, JJ is going to try to rescue her. He says he'll need eight hours-"

"Hours we don't have." Sarah cut in, folding her arms over her chest and walking toward him. "John B-"

"I know, I know. JJ said that if they don't make it in time, we should just go. That- That somehow they'll make it to South America." John B sighed again at the faces everyone made. Kiara locked away in a wilderness camp and JJ on a mission to rescue her. Sounded like an average Tuesday for the Pogues. "Yeah, I know, but it's JJ. He'll figure something out."

"So, what? We just waitin' around now?" Cleo questioned, her eyes flickering between them. "The longer we wait, the farther Singh gets, you know that, right?"

John B ran a hand over his face and nodded. The sky above them began to darken with the setting sun and gray clouds. Time seemed to tick by faster than expected. "Yeah, yeah, we know, Cleo. But this is Kie and JJ. We can't just leave leave them."

"Guess we're waiting then." Sarah pursed her lips. "Better get comfortable."

Another hour or two passed and night officially fell overhead, leaving them with only the lights along the airstrip. The plane pilot settled comfortably in the cockpit, awaiting instructions while the Pogues paced outside. No sign of JJ or Kiara, no calls, no texts. Dead silence on their end that only made frustration grow. John B continued to stare out toward the entrance, tapping his foot or dialing their numbers in vain.

"We have to go, John B," Sarah spoke up, pacing along the steps with her hands firmly on her hips. "We don't have eight hours. We can't wait around any longer, alright?"

"I'll try to call him again, okay?" As John B reached into his pocket and wiggled out his phone, the sound of a dirt bike grew closer and two dark figures on a bike appeared from the darkness of the airstrip. Everyone's attention immediately snapped toward it and Cleo groaned in relief. The scold on the tip of Pope's tongue halted and they all froze as the driver tossed their helmet off with their bloodied hands. (Y/N) felt his blood turn cold.

Hands left his sides and lifted to his face. Rafe roughly grabbed his throat, fingers digging into (Y/N)'s skin. A soft whimper left him and he pressed his hands against Rafe's chest, attempting to push back the blonde. "I need you to listen to me very carefully." He spotted Rafe's pupils in the light. He was high. "I need to get rid of John B. He came back to hurt my family and Sarah's helpin' him. I don't want to hurt her. She's my sister. But I can't let John B walk free. You know that, (Y/N). I'll let you come with me in case things get outta hand... But don't get in the way."

Taking in a sharp breath when Rafe released him, (Y/N) gingerly touched his sore throat. Rafe reached around the back of his waistband and took out a revolver, letting (Y/N) soak it in for a moment before tucking it back into its hiding spot. A coldness washed over him, making every hair on his body stand straight. Rafe ran a hand over his face and sniffled lightly, rubbing his nose and slapping a hand over (Y/N)'s back. He casually tossed the door open and stepped out.

"Come on, Barry's waiting."

He felt the phantom touch of fingers digging into his skin, hands coiling around his throat in an iron grip that left him momentarily breathless. Only the pained groan and Rafe's hurried movements broke him out of his brief trance, the withering and panting body on the back of the bike finally registering. Ward toppled over, bringing the bike along with him as he fell onto the concrete, revealing the large bloody circle on his shirt. Fucking Camerons.

"You're okay, Dad. You're okay, you're okay." Rafe breathlessly repeated as he reached down to bring Ward back up onto his feet. He finally knocked the helmet off Ward's head, revealing his pained face. Sarah staggered backward, staring wide-eyed at her father's bleeding form. Rafe turned to them, chest heaving. "Don't just stand there! I need some help! Come on, help me! (Y/N)! Please, Sarah."

Short, rapid breaths escaped Sarah's mouth and she hurried forward despite her previous hesitance. "What happened?!" She asked, pulling one of Ward's arms over her shoulder, helping her father wobble closer and closer to the plane.

"A fisherman spotted him, alright? They know he's alive. We gotta get him off the island right now." Rafe explained, tightly clutching his father's shirt and helping him inside the rest of the way. Sarah brought her hands to her forehead and moved away from the stairs, mumbling curses under her breath as she began to pace before bolting inside to check on them.

"Hell no. We are not getting on the plane with him. Hell no!" Pope shook his head as he cursed and turned toward John B. The brunette remained silent, eyes staring at the dots of red littering the ground and leading up to the plane.

(Y/N) rubbed his throat and turned around to face them, inhaling softly. Rafe looked different. Still had that deranged look in his eye but he'd buzzed his hair, ridding himself of the boyish blonde waves. The blood on his hands... a look that fitted him. A coked-up, daddy's boy who'd do anything for his approval, even if it meant staining his hands.

"He wasn't supposed to come," Sarah said breathlessly, heading down the steps and coming to a stop beside John B. "He stays on the island, he gets arrested."

"No, no, Sarah. I don't think you understand. I don't know if I can get on a plane with that guy-"

"Just listen, John B. This is his plane. I can't stop him from leaving. But he will still give us a ride to Orinoco, so if you don't wanna get on the plane, I get it. We'll find another way!"

John B swallowed, staring down at her as his lips pressed together. "There's no other way." He muttered, turning his head to look at Pope and Cleo. He took in a deep breath. "Let's go. Let's get on the plane."

"With them?" Pope stared at him, completely bewildered, and features slightly hardened with bitterness. With Rafe? (Y/N) grimaced. He'd be fine with just Ward, even if the man appeared half-dead with his groaning. At John B's nod, Pope sighed and turned around, preparing to head into the plane when Rafe stepped out. The two stopped and stared at each other, jaws clenching and muscles tensing. The air filled heavy with tension and unfinished business.

Rafe moved first, heading down the steps and brushing past the glaring boy. Cleo placed a hand on Pope's back, urging him inside and blocking his way until Pope finally headed up into the plane. (Y/N) took in a breath and walked forward, only taking a couple steps toward the plane before sweaty lean arms wrapped around his shoulders. He froze in Rafe's embrace, feeling those bloodied hands curl around the back of his shirt. "Keep an eye on him,' He whispered. "Please."

"He'll be fine." (Y/N) murmured breathlessly, and pulled himself free of the embrace to cut the distance between him and the stairs. He headed up them, hearing Rafe say the same sentiment to Sarah as she followed after him.

Inside the plane, Ward took up two seats near the front with his injury properly bandaged. He winced and groaned every few seconds, his face dripping with sweat. He seemed stable enough. Pope and Cleo sat far from him, side by side with Cleo quietly speaking to a fuming Pope. Sarah collapsed on one of the seats across from Ward with a first aid kit in her hands. John B sat a few seats down, looking weirdly calm about the whole situation. (Y/N) pursed his lips.

It was going to be a long ride to South America.

✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽

"It's the Wild West out here," Cleo murmured as they stepped off the plane. The airstrip contained multiple people in military gear, some held guns or leashes clipped to attack dogs. Different country, different laws, different treatment. (Y/N) only prayed they'd at least manage to stay on the right end of a gun, far from the barrel or bullets.

"Sarah!" Ward called out, limping down the stairs and holding onto the railings. "I'm coming."

Sarah whipped around to face him, a scoff escaping her. "No, you're not. You got us here like you said you would. Now go on to Guadeloupe. You need to see a doctor!"

"You're way in over your head. I can help, let me help. Please-"

"No!" Sarah shouted, cutting him off sharply. "Get back in the plane. You promised you weren't a part of this."

Ward fell silent, his eyes trailing over each of them. He pressed his lips together tightly and nodded. "Okay." He sighed, turning around and wobbling back into the plane. Sarah turned away and ran a frustrated hand over her face, nodding for them to continue off the airstrip with a solemn look on her face.

Getting a taxi and heading further into Tres Rocas, they listened to the sound of fireworks and firecrackers as people roamed the decorated streets. Lively music played from different buildings and children raced up and down the streets, clutching flags and other things in their hands. Things seemed better, more friendlier than the dreary, heavily watched airport.

"Looks like a local holiday," Cleo mused, stepping out of the taxi and observing her surroundings. (Y/N) watched a firework shoot up into the air and hummed quietly before turning to face the others when the taxi drove away, leaving them in the middle of the crowded street.

"So, we have to assume that Singh's already gone upriver, alright? We're looking for a guy named Jose. He's gonna take us to the dig site. I, uh... I do not have a last name."

"I hate to break it to you, John B," (Y/N) began. "You're in a Latin country. Half the dudes here are going to be named Jose and most of them will be likely working some sort of job regarding the river since, you know, this is a river town."

"(Y/N)'s right. It'll be like findin' a teardrop in the ocean." Cleo rubbed her forehead as she spoke, a tired look passing over her face. "We'd have better luck tryin' to find Singh."

"Well, I'm assuming river guides probably hang out by the river?" Sarah attempted halfheartedly.

"Yeah, and if they're anything like the guys at OBX, they're probably getting drunk on a holiday."

Sarah hummed thoughtfully and placed her hands on her hips, a hopeful grin appearing on her face. "Let's start with the bars, then. Divide and conquer, ya'll."

And with that, the group split up and spread out around town. (Y/N) put his basic Spanish lessons from school to use, hitting up any place that looked like it sold beer and asking around for Jose the river guide. Many of the locals waved him off or shook their heads, unable to answer any of his questions with useful information. Regardless, he thanked them and went on his way until he met up with Pope and Cleo again near the center of the town, the looks on their faces telling him they'd have similar luck.

The sound of tires squealing caught their attention and they spotted a jeep driving down the road, heading straight for them. "Run." Pope breathed and without needing to be told twice, the three of them took off running down the street. The jeep honked repeatedly, the sound of it growing closer and closer as they ducked down different streets trying to lose it.

"Como estas, amigos?" A familiar face stuck their head out a windowless bus, speaking in barely understandable Spanish and with a hude dumb grin on his face. Fucking JJ and Kiara. Go figure. He laughed gleefully but the look quickly vanished at the realization that they were being chased.

"Already?! We just got here!" Kiara groaned, hurrying off the bus with JJ. "What's happening?"

"Singh's men are after us. We gotta think of a plan." Pope explained breathlessly, bracing his hands on his knees and attempting to calm his racing heart by taking deep breaths.

"Let's hijack the bus!"

"This bus?" Kiara scoffed at JJ's proposal, motioning wildly to the old rickety bus they'd taken. "It only goes ten miles an hour!"

"They're coming now, guys! Hide in the fruit stands, come on!" Cleo ushered them further down an alleyway where rows of stalls stood. They ducked and weaved around the bustling people until they found an unoccupied stand to hide behind. (Y/N) could feel droplets of sweat roll down his cheeks, his eyes locked on the rifles the two men carried around as they asked and checked the bus. The two eventually headed back to their jeep and took off down the road.

"Welcome to South America," Cleo said, tossing her arms up.

"They're foreigners, Cleo." (Y/N) murmured, catching his breath and running the back of his hand over his forehead. "The locals haven't done anything. They don't owe us any help either."

"So..." Kiara trailed off, her chest heaving with deep breaths. "What's the plan?"

JJ swallowed, his eyes flickering over the stands and locals bustling around before his lips twisted up. He looked back at Kiara, studying her face for a moment before looking back toward them. "Barracuda Mike gave us the ride here. We could... ask him?" He proposed, wincing at the deadpan look Pope gave him. "He's our only shot, man!"

"Fantastic..." Pope sighed heavily. "Barracuda Mike it is."

Barracuda Mike, as it turned out, was a smuggler who primarily dealt with smuggling drugs and other similar things out of North Carolina via his cargo plane. And, he seemed surprisingly understanding when the group returned to him asking for help, claiming to have a boat set up at the river. He led them to it, even offering over a mag of machetes for them to use as weapons as he led them through a short trek in the jungle and to a boat perched on the water.

"I'm addin' the cost of this rig to what you already owe me. I don't expect to see it again, anyway. I asked around at the landin' today. Your buds did leave this mornin', but I was able to get directions to El Tesoro. Pretty loose since only Jose knows the real way, but it'll get you in the right zip code." Barracuda Mike explained, handing over a piece of paper with directions written on it and nodding for them to climb into the boat.

Turning to look at him, Pope offered a small smile. "Thanks."

"Don't thank me." Barracuda Mike brushed him off with a dry chuckle and wave of his hand. "Start prayin'." Ah, that made his willingness to help more understandable. He wanted them out of his hair as quickly as possible. "

With a couple of strained grunts, Barracuda Mike pushed the boat further into the water and lifted his hand to wave at them as the boat began floating downstream. JJ got the motor started and their speed increased, releasing a soft hum that mixed with the distant singing birds, chirping insects, and even the occasional hoot of a monkey. The five of them settled comfortably on the boat, filling the silence with chatter. (Y/N) spent his time gazing into the murky, brown river water until night fell and they took turns steering the boat to get some rest.

By the early morning, the sound of another boat heading down the river prompted JJ to wake everybody up and steer the boat closer to the bank where it'd be hidden by foliage and low-hanging leaves. They ducked down and waited, watching as a boat filled with Singh's men passed by, armed and going rather fast.

"They're not lookin' for us." Cleo mused. "They're movin' too quick."

"They're looking for John B and Sarah." JJ realized quietly, darting up from his spot and starting the motor back up. "They gotta know where they're headed. We need to go. They're gonna need us!"

The boat quickly resumed its journey down the rivers, speed fast enough to keep up with Singh but slow enough not to draw their attention. (Y/N) watched the boat drift in and out of view, disappearing over the horizon until JJ sped back up. His gaze moved over to the bag of machetes resting on the floor of the boat. Weapons, Barracuda Mike had called them. Weapons meant to help them against armed and trained men with guns. Maybe he should've listened to Liz, after all.

Early the next morning they encountered a small docking area by the riverbank. Kiara studied the paper Barracuda Mike had given them, her head lifting every so often to look at the village before she nodded to herself. "Guys, I think this is El Tesoro. The trailhead to the mountain is supposed to start here." She told them.

"Oh, shit," JJ whispered, motioning ahead to two of Singh's men lingering on the docks. "What are we gonna do? We gotta get past them somehow."

Pope's lips pursed and he slipped his backpack off his shoulders, setting it down on his lap and rummaging through the contents before pausing and looking up at them. "I... may have an idea."

"This is so stupid." (Y/N) whispered, peeking over the windowsill of the old, abandoned shack that had the perfect view of the men. One of them dozed off on a boat while the other fiddled around with different things, seemingly bored of waiting around. "If one of you gets shot-"

"It'll be fine, (Y/N)." Kiara assured him, ensuring the note she'd tied to the end of the fish hook wouldn't fall before she tossed the line out. It landed in the boat the napping man lied in and he startled, sitting up with squinted eyes and looking around until he noticed the note. "Get ready, ya'll.... and.... now, JJ!"

The blonde lit a firecracker and tossed it into the air, far enough that it hit the side of boat and exploded in the water. The man scrambled up and grabbed his rifle, his head on a swivel as his partner ducked down. Another firecracker landed and exploded nearby, prompting the man to start shooting blindly and forcing them to duck down to avoid being seen or hit.

"Return fire, Pope! Return fire!" JJ shouted and Pope quickly lit another firecracker, tossing it over the roof of the shack.

When that one exploded, they heard the man shouting at his partner to get in the boat. The boat quickly sped off with the two men on it and the group sent them off with one last firecracker. Once they disappeared down the river, (Y/N) stood up and shook his head, rolling his eyes at JJ and Pope's celebratory handshake.

"Hey, hey," Cleo called, stepping out of the shack and sucking her teeth. "No time for celebrating. We didn't do nothing yet."

✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽

"You know," (Y/N) exhaled breathlessly, sweat dripping profusely from his skin from both the humidity and trek up the mountain. Kiara answered with a soft groan, clutching her side as she leaned against a tree and turned back to look at him. Pope and Cleo had long gone ahead of them, clearing a way with two machetes as if they were used to hiking through jungles. "I'm glad this little last adventure... with you all has been... interesting, to say the least."

"Last?" JJ repeated, quickly as breathless. His blonde strands stuck to his forehead and temples, soaked as if he'd taken a plunge in the river. "What- What do you mean, last?"

"Yeah, I mean-" Kiara took a deep gulp of air and swatted away a buzzing insect. "-I'm sure there'll be other adventures."

"Yeah, for you guys." (Y/N) stood up straighter and rolled back his shoulder, wincing when his back ached. His legs were in no better condition, aching and weeping for rest. JJ and Kiara stared at him, their brows knitting together. "I- I... Jesus, I hate hiking. I'm never doing this again."

"Ditto." Kiara laughed and turned her back to him, using the trunk she'd been leaning against to help her move over a fallen log. "But, what do you mean? We're Pogues. All of us. Even Cleo and you. We're... We're a family... one that should never go hiking again."

"Remember that night when Sarah told us about the plane?" You asked, waiting for JJ to step over the log and sighing quietly when the blonde tripped and nearly fell. He recovered quickly, shooting them both an innocent grin as he wiped moist dirt off his hand. (Y/N) cautiously stepped over the log, keeping in mind the root that'd nearly taken out JJ and glancing up at them as they continued the trek.

"Yeah, you and JB cleared the air, right?" JJ glanced over his shoulder at him.

"Yeah, sorta, I guess. But, uhm... I told them that I'd-"

"Woah, guys, look at this view!" Kiara suddenly called out with a giddy laugh, the path leading out to an open area where they could overlook the thick jungle and the mountains ahead. (Y/N) noticed Pope and Cleo breaking away from each other quickly and hummed quietly, a smile pulling at the edges of his lips. Kiara and JJ, Pope and Cleo... Sarah and John B. They all had each other, in some way or another.

"What were you saying, (Y/N)?" JJ turned to look at him, causing the others to turn as well.

"Oh, uhm..." (Y/N) trailed off and sighed, looking out toward the gorgeous view before him. A thick green jungle as far as the eye could see, giant mountains that reached toward the skies, the beautiful song of the jungle sounding through the air. Beautiful, but everything that'd led him up to that moment hadn't truly been worth the view. "I'm leaving the OBX. For good. I'm- I'm going to get my diploma and apply to colleges away from here."

"What?" The resounding response to his revelation.

"I know, I know... Poguelandia, I know. I deserve more than being the thirdwheel or the ex being dragged along, guys. As much as ya'll hate to admit it, I'm a Kook. I care about each of you, even John B... sometimes. You'll always be family. And sometimes, families have to separate to live their lives to the fullest, right? I want a degree, a proper job, and a safe life. It's boring but it'll be comfortable." The Pogues remained largely quiet, mixed expressions on their faces and different emotions flashing but in the end, they all settled on bittersweet smiles and nods. "And I promise to send wedding invitations, if I ever get engaged."

"You better!" JJ laughed, lurching forward to swing his arms around his shoulders and hold him tightly. "You better, you bastard. I expect to be a groomsman, you hear?"

"And you better keep in touch, too." Kiara piped in.

"And visit when you can, alright?" Pope added and Cleo agreed with a nod.

"I will, I will." (Y/N) chuckled, running his hand over JJ's back before the two pulled away. "Now, let's go find those two idiots."

They headed down the mountain after Pope pointed out a manmade trail heading down and further into the jungle. JJ took the lead with Kiara, using machetes to cut down any thick grass, exposed roots, or fallen wood. They walked with idle chatter until a loud, distant yet not far explosion sounded through the air, startling the animals and causing birds in a nearby tree to shoot up into the air in a panic. They fell silent and exchanged wide-eyed glances before a silent, mutual agreement passed over them and they broke out into a sprint in the direction of the explosion.

"Careful!" Pope called when Kiara tripped over a root but brushed him off with a wave and stood back up to hurry after JJ.

They continued through the path until they heard the familiar sound of Ward's voice, followed by Big John and Sarah. Immediately ducking down, they carefully made their way up the steep path and peeked over, spotting Ward holding Big John, Sarah, and John B at gunpoint while speaking quietly to them.

"What are we gonna do?" Pope questioned quietly.

"Is this ride or die?" JJ asked quietly, his hand curling around the machete sheathed away. The others mimicked his movements, freeing their machetes from their sheaths and holding tightly onto them. JJ glanced back at them and grinned. "P4L."

The group charged forward with battle cries, pulling Ward's attention away from the three and onto them. He swung his gun around frantically as the group shouted at him, demanding he put his gun down. Ward panted, his eyes wide and arm swinging around, continuously switching who he pointed the gun at in a desperate attempt to spook them into staying back.

"You can't shoot just one of us." (Y/N) exhaled, grinding his teeth when Ward looked back at him with softened features.

"If you have to shoot somebody, Ward, shoot me." Big John told him through labored breaths, his bloodied hands pressed against his side. Shit. Ward spun on his heel to face him but John B stepped in his way, staring him right in the eye and arching a brow.

"Or me." He said softly, watching Ward's features harden and the trembling of his hand grow. He curled his lip and took a deep breath, attempting to steady his arm but then Sarah stepped in front of John B, her eyes shiny with tears but her features showcasing her utter exhaustion.

"Stop." She whispered, swallowing as a tear slid down her cheek and she stepped forward, pressing the barrel to her chest and staring at her father. "Enough."

"Don't-"

"You're not gonna kill all of us. I know you won't. I know you." Sarah's lips began to tremble and she shakily exhaled. "You forget that I know you."

Her words seemed to have an effect on Ward, his own eyes flooding with tears and face scrunching up as his shoulders began shaking. Sarah placed her hand over his, pushing it down and pulling the gun from his weakened grip. "I couldn't." Ward gasped, tears running freely down his face. His palm came to rest on Sarah's cheek and he weakly smiled. "I couldn't do it."

"Yeah? Well, I can." A new voice called followed by the sound of a gun cocking. One of Singh's men stumbled out of the jungle, his gun raised and pointed at them before dropping down to Big John when John B pointed his own gun at him. "Toss it!"

"Take it easy, bud." Big John spoke weakly. "Your boss is dead. You got no reason to do this."

"I can think of a few reasons." The man sneered at Big John, his eyes jumping back to John B. "Toss it!" He demanded sharply and John B lifted his hands, letting the gun slip from his grasp. The man slinked forward, keeping his gun trained on them. "Thought you'd end up with the gold, eh? Alright, nobody move. My mate back there is dead. Because of you. You..." He pointed his gun at Sarah. "Can go first."

Exchanging one last somber look with his daughter, Ward charged forward, taking multiple shots to his body but refusing to relent until he tackled the man and took them both tumbling down the cliff nearby. Sarah staggered forward, short gasps escaping her that turned into quiet sobs. (Y/N) moved first, snapping the others out of their shock, and walked toward the cliff's edge. He spotted the two lifeless bodies at the bottom and grimaced, closing his eyes tightly and listening to Sarah's sobs grow louder.

"Big John? Hey, Big John?" Pope's panicked voice made him open his eyes and he turned his head, noticing Big John's head lolling off to the side. (Y/N)'s arms reached out, pulling Sarah against him, and nodded to John B. The brunette shot him a thankful look before rushing over to his father, speaking hurriedly to him and slinging on of his arms over his shoulder.

"Come on, we gotta get you out of here, Dad." John B told him, waiting for Pope to get his other arm before they began heading back down the trail as quickly as possible.

"We'll let them know when we get back that his body's here, alright?" (Y/N) took Sarah by the shoulders, squeezing them lightly. She sniffled, another sob wrecking her body but she managed to nod weakly, one arm sliding around his waist to use him as support. "You'll be okay, Sarah. We'll all be okay."

They took turns helping Big John, the weight of a tall grown man weakening them after some time. They managed to reach the deserted dock, getting to their boat, and laying him down. (Y/N) got the motor started, steering them up the river as the Pogues tried giving Big John reassurances through their tears. He remained by the motor, watching them slowly come to terms with Big John's fate. His breathing had long become labored, his body too exhausted to fight through the pain.

With a trembling hand, Big John took his son's hand. "We did it together, my boy. Just... just like we drew it up. Hey, hey, Bird... it's okay." He weakly smiled up at him, rubbing his thumb over John B's hand. "I know... that I wasn't any great shakes as a father... but you... you were the best son any man could hope for. I want you to know that..."

"Tell me when we get home, Dad, okay?" John B sniffled, reaching into his bag to pull out the block of gold they'd been able to get from El Dorado before exploding the entrance alongside Singh. He set the block on Big John's chest for him to look at, a pained, bittersweet smile on his face. "We did it. We did it, Dad."

Big John's eyes fluttered closed, his breathing growing weaker and shorter. John B's lips rolled into his mouth, the tears dripping down his cheeks and quiet sobs escaping him. "I'll see you... I'll see you at home, kid..." Big John told him, before his chest ceased rising and John B hugged him tightly.

✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽

"Is this all of it?"

(Y/N) tore his attention away from his startling empty room to look over at Liz. He'd taken down most of his pictures, even those of him and Sarah, and packed them away in a box. He'd already chosen which ones he felt like keeping and which ones he felt fine with parting. His closet remained partly empty, a couple clothes kept in there just in case, but his essentials and anything sentimental had been packed away and in the back of his jeep.

"Yeah," (Y/N) nodded, pushing his hands into the pockets of his jacket and nodding to himself. "We're good to go, I guess."

"Good, 'cause I have a flight to catch." Liv walked forward, wrapping her arms around him before planting a kiss on his cheek. She scanned the room and hummed quietly, turning around and making her way to the door. "I'll be waiting for you on campus, alright? I already spoke to your future roomie-"

"Liv." (Y/N) groaned.

"And I have to say, he's pretty cute. I think you'll have fun together." Liv winked, her mischievous giggles echoing down the hall.

Rolling his eyes and quietly muttering to himself, (Y/N) took one last survey of his childhood bedroom. He'd miss it, even with all the lonesome memories it held. He walked toward the door and stepped outside, gently shutting it and making his way down the hall. His eyes took in every inch of the hall, gaze lingering on the rare family photos still hung up despite his parent's pending divorce. Things were better that way. They'd go their own way, find their own happiness. Communication with them had improved, at least. No more ignored calls.

"Goodbye, home sweet home." He whispered to himself, striding down the stairs and picking up his keys.

(Y/N) stepped outside and shut the door with a soft thud, locking it and double-checking it locked. He inhaled deeply and stepped off the porch, waving to Liv's car when it sped down the road. Topper waited at the end of the driveway, attempting to look as casual as possible while leaning against his truck.

"What's up, Top?"

"Came to see you off, is all," Topper responded with a shrug, pushing himself off the truck and walking up the driveway toward him. He stood in front of him, twisting his lips up a bit before throwing his arms around him in a tight hug. (Y/N) stumbled backward and chuckled, wrapping his arms around him. "I'm still mad at you.... but I'll miss you."

"Yeah, yeah, don't get into trouble, alright?" (Y/N) leaned back, ruffling up his pristine blonde locks and laughing when Topper huffed. "Keep an eye on Sarah, will you? But be nice about it."

"She's a big girl," Topper muttered, crossing his arms over his chest. "I will. Just for you, though."

"Uh-huh." (Y/N) climbed into his jeep and turned the engine on, feeling it come to life beneath him. He took another look at the boy and smiled, closing the door and resting his arm on top of it. "I'll be seeing you in a couple months, anyway. Got that big thing with the mayor, remember? Something about the treasure."

"Don't be a stranger, then!" Topper called, watching the car reserve out of the driveway.

With one last wave, (Y/N) drove down the street. He turned the volume of the radio up and absentmindedly listened to the random pop songs that played, his eyes focused on the scenery passing him by. The expensive houses, the snobby neighbors, the shimmering water peeking between the trees, the welcoming town between both worlds, the distant horn of the ferry. He'd miss Kildare but it felt good to finally break away from it.

The repeated honking of a car caught his attention and he rolled his eyes when the Twinkie drove up beside him with JJ halfway out of the passenger window. Whoops, hollers, and the occasional 'we'll miss you' came from the van and JJ playfully blew him a few kisses before being forced back into his seat by John B. The brunette pushed his hand into the horn a few more times before they turned down a different road.

"Idiots." (Y/N) whispered with a chuckle and pulled into a gas station, parking his car by one of the bumps and stepping out. He stuck his hand in his back pocket for his wallet and tugged it out, moving around his car and looking up in time to notice Sarah jogging across from the store.

"Liv told me you were gonna stop for gas here." She revealed with a chuckle, brushing back strands of blonde hair she'd recently recolored. Sarah smiled sweetly, glancing at the stuff stored in the back of his jeep. "The others are gonna pick me up in a second. I... I wanted to say bye to you alone. Well- Somewhat alone."

"All of you are acting as if I'm marching off war." (Y/N) snorted. Sarah laughed sheepishly and shrugged lightly, taking a few steps closer before she leaned up to press their lips together. She leaned back and rested her hands on his shoulders, her smile shifting into a sad one. She sighed shakily and chuckled again.

"Thank you, for everything... I couldn't have asked for a better boyfriend, ex or not. I'll really miss you and just know that- that I'll always have love for you, (Y/N). Remember that, okay? Promise you'll never forget how much I care about you... how much we all care for you." She told him softly, tilting her head up to gaze into his eyes. "Pogues for life?"

"Pogues for life." He echoed softly, combing his fingers through her hair and pressing his hand against her cheek. Sarah leaned into his touch and closed her eyes.

"I'm... I'm glad you're going for your happily ever after, (Y/N). Even if it's not with us. We'll always be here if you ever need us."

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meltedbluecaterpillar · 1 month

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Welcome to more Headcanons where I discuss clothing. Because it is fun for me. Today we will talk about Jade Leech and how in my mind he dresses like a serial killer; specifically Patrick Bateman. Just kidding. I will talk about that sort of fashion later. When I make these posts I plan to update them with another version of the character dressing in another way. But, let’s keep it short.

Subtle Punk/Grunge

Firstly, Jade has been confirmed in many ways to be more muscle than Floyd. So I like to personally picture him in tight fitting tops. His own mental mind game of showing you; “If I wanted to hurt you I would.” But of course image is everything.

I am desperately clinging to the Punk Jade we could have had in canon with piercings and body modifications but also… Going to a prestigious academy… Jade cares a lot about how he is seen by others on campus. The butler trope fits him very well, but what about off campus? I think he does wear subtle punk fashion when he’s out alone on the island. He loves the belts and black boots and how to layer shirts. All while asking some frightened looking cashier about what kind of mushroom spores they sell.

The reasons for the heavier fashion; A) I personally like it. And it’s okay to disagree with me. B) Jade is a merman, and in my mind their ability to regulate temperature isn’t the same as someone on land. So I would like to think that Jade has issues with cold weather. Please see his club wear card.

I get that camping can be something you need to layer for, but a coat, and a sweatshirt, and a turtleneck, and a wool(?) hat with gloves? He either has horrible circulation or mermen just have issues with cold weather. I think it’s the ladder. Jade also looks good in boots. Being in the Mountain Lovers Club, and even during the Camp event he looks good in boots. Combat boots and kicker boots are also something you usually will see with punk and more ‘aggressive’ forms of alternative fashion. He’s so used to wearing boots when he goes hiking that it feels more natural to wear something like that even on weekends when he’s out and about. Also, the heaviness is like extra weight so he can strengthen his legs. At least that’s what I think. He doesn’t seem like a jeans man but there’s also a lot of things Jade hides about himself. Now for a quick outfit!

Thrifted x DIY

I think he usually will wear things like this as it gets darker and he hangs out at underground music clubs where it’s mostly rock and alternative music playing. Now, Jade comes from money. Which can make him seem like a ‘poser’ because he is a nepo baby. But Jade also loves doing something and getting results. Like taking care of terrariums and discovering things in the mountains. I don’t think when he dresses like this he focuses on the best brand clothing wise. I think he wants to not stand out so I think he would go for darker colors while still having personality with his outfit. So I also gave him those nasty ass crust-punk jeans because I think he would have a pair he made himself and they probably smell like Fritos. He washes them… Sometimes.

Accessories… I can imagine Jade wearing small ones or thin leather bracelets with beads. But also at a music club, he probably would take time to make kandi to trade with some local emos. Rings would look nice on him. Especially big metal ones with chunky charms so if he gets into a fight, it’s like pseudo brass knuckles. He keeps it classy and clean while still upkeeping how he looks and is perceived. He wants to go all out. Shaved sides of his head and all. But he also fears… Something. I think he has to be seen a certain way for family reasons but also because of how he is seen at school. I think Jade… Lacks confidence to be himself. Even if he says he’s happy being a little weird and having such a pristine self image… Is he really? … It’s all my Headcanons and you don’t have to agree with me. But this is what I think.

#absolute gossip.#jade leech #jade leech headcanons

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tastyvietnamesefood · 5 months

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Spring on the coast of Ireland 🌅🩷

#nature #travel #photooftheday #beauty #architecture #relax

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snugglylime · 5 months

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Long-Distance Yasammy HCs

Just some post-canon long-distance relationship HCs for Yasammy for y'all during the count down to Chaos Theory <3

Yaz struggles HARD with the long distance. She trusts Sammy with every fiber of her being, but every once in a while, she worries that Sammy will move on since they don't see each other much.

Conversely, Sammy worries that Yaz will get so caught up in track that she'll eventually get tired of keeping up with the relationship.

They video call a LOT, especially when they're doing homework, relaxing, or just when they need to hear each other's voices (which is often)

They also host virtual watch parties so they, and the rest of the Nublar Six if their schedules line up, can watch movies and chat together.

After the semi-isolation of being on Isla Nublar for so long, Yaz starts to get overstimulated at school and when she's in big groups. Whenever she does (and can't calm down on her own), she calls Sammy, who always manages to make her feel better.

Yaz sends Sammy postcards every time she goes on a trip for a track competition. Sammy creates a scrapbook with them.

After Yaz expresses how much she misses her, Sammy mails her one of her hoodies. Even though it's a bit big on her, Yaz starts wearing it to school and to track meets whenever she can. She also likes snuggling up with it in her downtime.

For holidays and just whenever they want, they send each other gifts through the mail. Sammy prefers things like stuffed animals and cute keychains, while Yaz prefers more practical things like sketchbooks and art supplies. Though Sammy does send her some cute things too, which she's secretly obsessed with because they remind her of Sammy.

They have a mutual understanding that they won't call each other past a certain time unless it's an emergency (like a nightmare). When this does happen, the other is more than willing to wake up and talk for a bit.

Yaz doesn't officially celebrate most holidays, so when she gets the chance, she flies to Texas to celebrate them with Sammy and her family.

Whenever she can't visit, Sammy puts her on a video call so that Yaz can feel like she's part of the festivities. This is always the best during Christmas since Sammy's family also sends Yaz gifts and gets to watch her open them.

They initially plan for Yaz to fly to Texas for her birthday, but it falls through because of an important upcoming track meet. Yaz is devastated by the whole thing, so her mom secretly pays for Sammy to visit them for the week.

Yaz is over the moon about the surprise. She's also excited that Sammy will finally get to attend one of her track competitions (naturally, Sammy cheers for her super loudly the whole time)

At some point, Sammy gets sick and goes radio-silent for a while. Yaz FREAKS out and nearly runs out the door to try and hitch-hike to Texas before her mom stops her. Eventually, Sammy responds and tells her what happened, and Yaz starts checking in on her more regularly until she gets better.

Because of how much time they spend apart, they always get shy when they're together again. But once they get comfortable, they're just as touchy and cutesy as ever.

And they're both pretty bad at kissing :p lack of practice and all that.

Sammy likes reading bedtime stories to Yaz over the phone. It helps calm them both down if they're feeling particularly anxious (since sleeping on the Island was always dangerous and that anxiety sticks with them)

When Yaz visits the ranch, she's AWFUL with the animals. Sammy just finds her fumbling and struggling adorable, even if she teases her about it.

Sammy cries out of joy when Yaz reveals her plans to attend college in Texas :)

#miiiiight write a post-canon long-distance Yasammy fic if finals don't kill me :')#jurassic world camp cretaceous #jwcc #sammy gutierrez #yasmina fadoula #yasammy #jwcc headcanons

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tired-old-men · 2 months

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Your jobs seem stressful, what do you guys do to de-stress?

Thunderhawk

Our jobs can be really stressful especially since we are constantly on duty to keep Angel Island safe, however we do get some free time to rest and unwind. Everyone needs to rest and refresh to be on their A game including us Guardians.

For me, I destress by spending quality time with the family when I can. As expected of people that constantly work and live together we tend to spend most of our free time independently, which is all fine and good.. but we are a family after all, and getting to share some genuine time together, watch a movie, maybe play a board game or two, sharing a big meal, just gives me a nice warm feeling and reminds us of the simple moments in life together. Slowing down and enjoying the little things.

Sometimes when work gets really overwhelming I stop for a moment, I focus on my breath and pay subtle attention at whats around me, how things look, sound, feel, maybe taste, I notice my feelings in the moment and remind myself of those little happy moments in life. It’s helped me destress over the years and has even come in handy when my anxiety would try to get the best of me. -smiles-

Sojourner

What do I do to de-stress? Besides beautiful women -smirks then clears throat-, I enjoy the occasional cigar as opposed to my usual cigarettes, I don’t drink too often but I’ll even enjoy a glass of whiskey on the rocks with my smoke. Just find a good spot to sit outside and enjoy the view and maybe some tunes, although the sounds of the Island’s wilderness is the perfect music to my ears.

At times the best way for me to de-stress is to go out hiking and especially camping. Sometimes I’ll take my son or another one of the boys along for the trip but other times I’ll go by myself, just exploring and experiencing Angel Island’s raw beauty brings me a lot of peace and provides the space for personal reflection too. Can’t beat a walk in nature I’ll tell you that!

Sabre

To say that this job is stressful would be an understatement in my opinion… I’ve tried a few things to destress but I really enjoy some quiet time along with a nice cup of tea, perhaps even a book or a good album to listen too. I’ve also found working on my garden to be quite therapeutic for me in a way. Gives me something to focus on besides work, and as much as it reminds me to take care of my plants it reminds me to take care of myself too. Originally my wife started this garden so I’d say it also holds some fond memories to reminisce about.

Locke

De-stress? Hmm.. I’d probably say meditation is my biggest guide when I feel burdened. I’ve read some of my ancestors would meditate so much they would even reach new levels of consciousness and even find greater insight into their chaos abilities. For me it keeps me focused on the present and helps organize my thoughts. I um- sometimes go out maybe into Echidnaopolis or another town on Island, just socialize a bit… Although my favorite places I go to are some of the old ruins or caves found around the Island, lots of history to uncover, it fills me with such an exciting energy I tend to forget about whatever might have been stressing me at the moment. -smiles sheepishly-

Spectre

Hm…I meditate. I read. I tend to write about my thoughts, feelings, and observations as it helps gather all my introspections and provide greater insight into them… … I’ll also swim or dive from time to time…water is rather soothing…

#Guardians.txt #charleecat-bat #Brotherhood of Guardians #Harlan the Echidna #Sometimes we just need the simple reminder to slow down and take a breath ♥#and sometimes I just need a good excuse to draw Harlan lol -idk man this resonated with me on a personal level so...#Gentle reminders from Brother Harlan #🎵 Breathe ~ breathe in the air ~ don't be afraid to care~#💿 Pink Floyd's song 'Breathe' has been my personal life saver in times of great stress and anxiety

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cobragardens · 1 year

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Self-Therapy in the Form of an Open Letter to Neil Gaiman and My Fellow Ineffables

Dear Ineffables, and Dear @neil-gaiman

I want to talk about Good Omens for a sec, ok? You are not obligated to listen! But if you want to listen, I have a Thing I need to say. And it's important to me and I have a Tumblr, so you can see where this is headed.

I know Crowley and Aziraphale's relationship, book and show, is primarily about the absurdity and tragedy and miraculousness and contagiousness of being human. I know it's about wanting friendship and cake instead of victory and ashes, and I love that. I know it did not start out as an intentionally or unequivocally queer story, and I know that neither the queerness nor the Christianity is the main theme of S1 or the book. And I think those are all good things: one of the big strengths that makes Good Omens so remarkable and so charming is its lightness of touch.

But Crowley did not start out as a demon, and Aziraphale did not start out as a butter-smooth liar, and they are neither of them the angel the other knew, and there are reasons for that. And S2 starts discussing those reasons, and now Crowley and Aziraphale have shared a very human kiss and have started a more overt phase of their ongoing conversation about what they are to each other. So one of the things we need to talk about is what it’s like to love the wrong person in a world like the world of Good Omens.

And I feel like I have some (very small) amount of expertise in this field. I do not have the skill as a writer to tell you what that was like to grow up Christian and deeply in love with my (also female) best friend in Colorado Springs, Colorado, the evangelical Christian Mecca of the United States. But I did it--or, rather, it happened to me--so I'm the person who has to write about it now.

It was Before Ellen. Homosexual sex was against the law in around half of U.S. states. Only one state (Rhode Island, which I am not convinced actually exists) had a law prohibiting discrimination against LGB people in housing, services, or employment. One U.S. state—my state, Colorado—amended its state constitution to prohibit prohibiting discrimination. Same-sex marriage did not exist. Same-sex couples could not adopt children. Being any flavor of queer could cost you custody in family court of any children you did have.

Queer young-adult novels did not exist. Movies and tv shows with queer characters did not exist unless they were serial killers or dying of AIDS. Safe-sex education did not exist, the LGBTQ section of the bookstore did not exist. Social media did not exist, the Internet was in its infancy (I was typing up papers in AppleWorks on an Apple IIe), smartphones did not exist. Porn was in magazines your friend’s older brother or uncle kept under his mattress.

The guy everybody in school thought was gay got beat up daily. The girls I'm not sure about. I only ever saw two girls/women who were out before I was 28 and met an openly lesbian woman in a university class.

In Colorado Springs, bumper stickers for Colorado for Family Values and Focus on the Family, both headquartered in the city, were common. Crosses and ichthys decals proliferated. There were only a few “God made Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve” stickers, but “Marriage = One Man + One Woman," or the same message in Ladies and Gents toilets symbols (with a pair of ladies and a pair of gents crossed out) were a regular sight on the backs of cars every day, every drive, my whole life there.

This was a world where there was one very specific God, who has one very rigid Plan, and whose Agents and Enemies fight each other for the eternal souls of every human being. And every player on the board was clear about this.

I was 12 when my dad and I met two women on a hiking trail and, after we all said hello and they three had chatted a bit and the women had walked on, he asked me if I had "gotten any spiritual witness about them." He told me he suspected they were lesbians.

I was 14 when I burst into tears and shouted at my dad when he spoke viciously of the two gay men who had come into his place of work earlier in the day. He called them “flaming” and “faggots.” I told him we were Christians and we were not hateful about people in that way. I didn’t know what the word faggot meant, not for sure (I picked up the meaning of flaming from his imitations), but I could tell it meant they were people who did awful things, and that he hated them.

I had never seen my dad like that before, hating someone. I had never heard him speak that way about anyone.

I was 16 when I rode in the back seat of our next-door neighbors’ Ford Focus on the way to Bible study and listened to the handsome Christian newlyweds up front discuss how awful it was that gay and lesbian couples were now allowed to adopt children in the state of New Jersey. It was bad, they said, that children could find homes with queer people “because children learn from their parents.”

I was 17 when 2 straight men beat and tortured Matthew Shepard and left him tied to a split-rail fence on the side of a road 3 hours north of Colorado Springs as a warning to the rest of us. A scarequeer.

A joke in poor taste, you may feel, this little pun. It is a pun, but it's not a joke.

One of Shepard’s murderers used the gay panic defense in court. In the U.S. the gay panic defense is one of reduced responsibility: a man cannot be held fully legally responsible for murdering another man if he claims he thought his victim was gay and making a pass at him. Because, under U.S. law, it is considered common for men to go temporarily insane and murder men they think may be gay and making a pass at them. I have rewritten this paragraph five times and that is the absolute least bananas I can make this sound. It is real and it is still a thing.

I was also 17 when Pastor Luis, the head of my church, preached in sermon about a member of the congregation who had fallen in love with another woman. He told us firmly: "She is no longer a lady. She is a lesbian."

He refused to counsel or marry them, services he insisted upon performing for the heterosexual couples among his congregants. He said he told the woman and her fiancee that they and their sin were not welcome in his house of God. He told us, the ones left, that we were not to contact the ejected woman or continue any friendships with her.

It was a small church, only about 60 people. Pastor Luis looked right into my eyes and held the eye contact with me (other peoole turned to look) when he said, "And if you don't agree with that, you are not welcome here either. You can leave now and never come back."

I did. For 10 years after that, I thought God had told Pastor Luis about me. That Pastor Luis had gotten the same "spiritual witness" off me that my dad had gotten off the 2 women we met backpacking. That he somehow knew—that any Christian might know if they listened, if they sniffed carefully enough. The smell of evil, I thought, must linger on me.

I was 18 when I got my first tattoo. My parents were relieved when I told them that’s all it was. "We thought you were going to tell us you were pregnant, or gay," they said.

I was 19 when a trans woman at a coffee shop told me about how she'd been fired as a substitute teacher from the biggest school district in the state. She didn't pass, so she dressed as a man when working. One day she made the mistake of wearing a women's button-down shirt (with the buttons on the left, not the right), and someone noticed and complained.

I was also 19 when my boyfriend's parents became concerned that he might be gay. (He had gotten his ears pierced and dyed his clipper cut pink while away at college.) As Christians his parents were against premarital sexual activity of any kind, including masturbation or sexual desire, so my bf couldn’t tell them how he knew he wasn’t gay, and for over a year they wouldn’t believe him. His mother bought some books from Family Christian Booksellers, the biggest Christian publisher in the U.S., about how as a Christian she should respond to her child’s queerness.

Throw them out, cut them off, and do everything you can to make sure your child starves and suffers, said the books. (I read them all.) Hunger and homelessness were the goal, they advised, but any misery you could cause was helpful. Turn other relatives against them, don't let them take their belongings when they go, cancel phone contracts and insurance plans.

When your child asks for help because they can't support themselves, you can force them to leave their beloved and drop their friends in exchange for survival, said the books. They will either eventually see that you and God are right and loving, and repent of their sin, or you will catch them lying to you and sneaking around, which is proof that homosexuality and other sins go hand in hand.

One book acknowledged that cutting them off would endanger teenagers and young adults and leave them vulnerable to rape, murder, and human trafficking (though it called being trafficked "prostitution"). But Christian parents acting in the name of God's love would not be responsible for the harm their kids suffered, it said: the children were bringing whatever happened to them on themselves as a natural consequence of living a sinful lifestyle.

In fact, said the book, being attacked or abused could be good for your children: if they suffer enough they may realize it’s their gayness that has caused all their problems and repent of their disgusting unacceptable love and desire.

In the United States, LGBT children represent 40% of homeless youth under 18. "Family conflict" is the number-one cause of LGBT youth homelessness.

I was 22 when the pastor of my boyfriend’s church received news that one of his congregants was engaged in a same-sex affair. Extramarital affairs were very common in his church—three of the deacons were cheating on their wives with other (also married) congregants, and my bf’s parents had been swingers —but this was the first and only time the pastor ever called a church member to the altar, outed him by described his sin to the congregation (c. 350), and demanded the man apologize to everyone and ask their forgiveness. The pastor told him that if he did not apologize he and his wife and children were not welcome to continue attending.

I was 23 when I heard that same pastor’s sermon on avoiding sexual temptation. Give up affection if it causes you to sin, he said. Scoop out your own eyes, cut off your own hand. He instructed men only to hug other men side-along, one arm around their shoulders, lest a real embrace cause them to feel sexual desire for another man. (No mention was made about how women should hug, or that women might ever feel sexual desire at all.)

I remember listening to this pastor's sermon and thinking, I know something about this man that he does not know about himself.

I was 24 when I went with my boyfriend to Pulpit Rock Church, seeking answers from the sermon they advertised on their signboard about sex and sexuality and gender. My boyfriend loved wearing women's clothes. Transgender and cross-dressing were just starting to replace transsexual and transvestite as the accepted terms for the things he might be. Nonbinary and genderqueer were not words we had. He wasn’t sure yet which thing he was; the thing he was was still, for us, unspeakable.

"Men are created to be men and women are created to be women," preached the pastor at Pulpit Rock. "Men and women are different in a way that can't be explained, and they fit together in a relationship in a divine way. A man and a man or a woman and a woman may love each other, but they'll never have the spiritual connection of a godly relationship that a man and a woman can have. We don't have to understand it, but we shouldn't question it, because that’s the way God made it."

Then he talked about how he and his wife could both make French toast (or maybe it was pancakes), but the way his wife made French toast was female somehow--ineffably--because she was a woman, even though the French toast was the same. My bf and I left in the middle of the sermon.

I was 25 when Ted Haggard, best friend of Focus on the Family founder James Dobson (of “Spongebob is teaching our kids it's ok to be gay” controversy) and pal of George W. Bush (the POTUS who pursued, in his own words, "a Crusade" in Iraq with the U.S. military to fight the influence of demons "Gog and Magog[…] at work in the Middle East"), was publicly outed. Male escort and Mike Jones—whom Haggard hired to sell him meth and give him happy-ending massages—recognized ‘Pastor Ted’ as the leader of Colorado Springs evangelical megachurch New Life Church, a nationally famous preacher who denounced the evils of homosexuality from his pulpit, and Jones, a big damn hero, tipped off the press.

I had heard Pastor Ted preach twice. New Life Church was a lot like Heaven in Show Omens in that it had a lot of open space and bright fluorescent lighting and smiling well-groomed people in it, as well as several giant digital screens floating in the air to either side of its dais on which the face of the straight-passing white man bringing his people the word of God was projected as he spoke. This latter feature also resulted in a slight resemblance to a Hitler rally, but there was more medium-stained oak in play than either Hitler or Heaven would find tasteful.

I was 26 when I acted as an informal lettings agent for one of my landlord's other apartments and the young Christian woman living downstairs asked me refuse shelter to any gay or lesbian people because she didn't want to have to live in the same building with them.

When I asked her how I was supposed to know whether someone was gay, she said, “Well you can just tell, can’t you?”

I was 30 when I came out to my Christian parents. Having read the Christian parenting books, I was hugely relieved when they didn't throw me out of their house, where I was living after college (and a few major depressive episodes and two global recessions). I was relieved that they wanted to continue to have a relationship with me at all, in fact.

"I still think it's a sin, though," my mother gently reminded me. My father has refused ever to discuss it at all.

I was 31 when I moved to the UK. I've spent 11 years trying and failing to scrape a living in the Thatcher-hollowed market towns around Manchester, under the fucking Tories, through fucking Brexit, through fucking May and fucking Boris and that weird little cabbage Liz Truss, in order to stay out of Colorado Springs. I can't get medical care on the NHS and I can't work or leave my apartment bc I can't get medical care and I can't heat my apartment in winter on Universal Credit and I’ve been threatened and assaulted by doctors and raped by a nurse and I’ve tried suicide a few times, and I'm in some smallish danger of dying here in Britain's left armpit, but I am not in Colorado fucking Springs today, am I. So that's something at least.

I was 41 and living in the UK for a decade when a homophobe with Christian parents shot up the only gay venue in Colorado Springs, Club Q, murdering 5 people and shooting 19 more. I'd been to Club Q a few times, on dead nights, when I lived in the city. The shooting was 24 years after homophobes tied Matthew Shepard to a fence and left him dying as a warning to the rest of us.

I never told my best friend I was in love with her.

Instead I had anxiety dreams in which my subconscious warned me I wasn't safe. In one dream, Not Yet appeared tattooed on the back of my hand as I looked at a female classmate who was dating another girl. I had to wear gloves to hide the rainbow that had appeared, indelible, on my ring finger.

My first kiss was with a (Christian) boy.

I knew what I felt for my best friend was effervescent and golden and breath-stealing. I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her, knew I wanted to live with her in a little house in the Pacific Northwest in the mist and the trees and make her coffee with a Turkish press anytime she wanted it and cuddle her on the closed porch and gripe about the wool in her sweater prickling my arms when I hugged her. I knew her eyelashes made her eyes look like they had stars in them and that she had the lushest curves and most perfect skin I had ever seen, and that when she smiled or laughed the shape of her mouth made something in me ache like tuning forks must ache when they're struck and made to sing.

I never told my best friend I was in love with her because I didn't know those were the words for what I was feeling.

Not until years later, after she had left my life. I had been told (frequently) by a Higher Authority that queer love was disgusting and ruinous and sinful and ugly and twisted and inferior, not this perfect fragile thing as soft and trembling-alive as a bird in my hands. Why would I think this was queer love?

I didn't catch the worst of it. I wasn't chained to a bed or forced to drink water from a dog dish, like the foster parents of the gay kid in class did to him. (The school asked him to give a talk to our class so they'd bully him less, so he told us about his life as the teachers looked on. He was 12.) I wasn't sent to conversion therapy like one classmate. I didn't spend most of my childhood in Bible School like other devout Christians' children; my family read the Bible a lot, and prayed together, but my parents weren't regular churchgoers. I was so, so lucky.

It destroyed me anyway.

The thesis of my essay runs thus, fellow ineffables: A happy ending for Crowley and Aziraphale is necessary.

It is necessary not just because Bury Your Gays is an overdone trope and an act of homophobia in the hands of straight writers; not just because Good Omens has been crafted with such loving care in both book and show incarnations to be optimistic, even sunny, against a backdrop of Orwellian, cosmic, and Kafka-esque horror; not just because casting miracles of the magnitude of David Tennant as Crowley and Michael Sheen as Aziraphale happen once a generation and it would be a shame and a waste not to write more magic for them to chew on; it is necessary because, in most places here in Shitworld, there are real people having the experience Crowley and Aziraphale are having, and not all of us are able to make happy endings for ourselves.

We don't have ethereal/occult powers or authorial control, so we need stories to show us how to love and when to fight and why to fucking bother. And the harder those things are to see in this world, the more we need those stories. And the more we need people with influence and audience and privilege telling them, not just all us little Tumblr rats and AO3 and Pillowfort perverts.

Crowley and Aziraphale exist in a fascist universe run by the ultimate Authoritarian—not Big Brother, but Big Father. There is nowhere for them to go, not even their own minds, where it is safe for them to love each other openly. I am completely prepared to believe someone in those circumstances could go 6,000 years without realizing the love they feel for their best friend is the kissing kind of love. I know someone can go a whole lifetime without saying it.

The hosts of Heaven and Hell will take away even the words for love when they can. We need people who don't just wield words but the power of the word spreading the message "There is a way to make this work. There is a way to exist. You can make a new world."

Mr Gaiman, I know from reading some of your other work that a big part of your whole Deal as a writer is an ongoing enthusiasm for the immense, even mystical, power stories have to shape individual and shared realities—sometimes to doom people and lock them into a destiny, but as often to let them escape their fate by imagining and conceiving a new way of living, or of living with each other, where none was possible before.

Hate and hope are the result of the stories we tell each other--I know you know this because I know you know that in saying it I am referencing a story you wrote. Like the hate, that hope only exists if an author says it does. And real people’s hearts, real people’s lives, are made and broken by listening to the wrong stories or hearing the right ones.

Crowley and Aziraphale are your characters, and Good Omens is your story to tell. You have written a setup in which, if you want these characters to be able to love each other, you (they) will have to create a world where that is possible. Please write us a romance. Please put enough sweet in with the bitter that we can survive it.

We have such faith in you because you have shown your readers and your audiences that you deserve that faith. Please choose your phrases wisely. ❤️

#good omens #good omens 2 #human rights #Colorado Springs #lgbtq #writing #religion #christianity #aziracrow #aziraphale x crowley #neil gaiman #stories #ineffable husbands #good omens s2 #trauma #mental illness #tmi #say your right words the goblins said

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